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QUARTER OENTENFIAL CELEBRATION , 



Off THE BKTTLKMENT 0» 



KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN, 



7UBLISHBD Bt' ORDSB Of THX 



1:30^RI> OF DIREOTOR8 



OS T H « 



ITiiliiea' 'Ciirarq IsHnnntian, 



•SAZEITE PRINT, KALAMAZOO. 

1855. 






O.Tf.. 

24 0'flD 



CIROULj^B 



It ia in contemplation, by the Ladies of Kal-r^mazoo, to celebrate tha terraina- 
iion of tlie fi-rst quarter of a ckntury, sinco the settlement of that Viiiago 
by white Inhabitants, and in reference to such an event, thoy are anxicus to colldcc 
as much authentic information as possible, relative to its early existence. 

To you, as one of the pioneer residents, whose memory must supply many 
interesting and important facts, the Committee appointed for that purpose, res- 
pectfully suggest the following important points of interest, regarding which 
they would feel obliged by any information in your power, accompanied by as 
precise dates as possible. 

The Indian tribes inhabiting this region, and their intercourse with the whit* 
•ettlors. The political and civil organization of the County and Village. Th« 
errly liistory of the difTerent churches and schools, with the dates of their or- 
ganization ; and all such personal and local recollections as may occur to your 
mind, as suitable for such a purpose. The committee will feel grateful for «n 
early answer to their application, embodying such information and remiui«c«nc«ii 
ia a written form, and addressed to any oii© of their number. 

Mrs. a. S. KEDZIE. 
•• J. A. B. STONE, 
*• D. B. WEBSTEH. 
•* A. RANSOM, 

Kalaiuzoo, March 2, 1853. ** £L TEAVSIL 



IMTlBODUCTIOIf. 



The foregoing circular was forwarded to many of the early settlers of Kala-= 
mazoo, but unfortunately, was responded to in writing, by very few. It had, 
however, the good effect to notifv a large number of friends, who encouraged 
and aided by their presence, in carrying out the objects of the Association. From 
the commencement of its organization, it has been the intention of the " IjAdies' 
Library Association," to preserve all the historical rtcords thatcan be obtained* 
of the early condition of this village and county. They have therefore endeav- 
ored to obtain, from persons now living, such information as they might be able 
to communicate. The few answers they have received to their solicitations, 
will be found m another part of this volume. To those gentlemen who have so 
kindly favored us with their reminiscences, the thanks of the Association are 
cordially tendered. But these thanks, heartfelt and ardent as they certainly are, 
cannot compare with those, that will arise from the bosoms of our children's 
children, when in after years they tell the unbroken story of the progress of this 
beautiful village, from the hands of its savage occupants to its present enviabio 
position. It is not common for a community or society to celebrate so short an 
existence ae the fourth of a eentur)'. Generally, a century is allowed to pat^s, 
before an attempt is made to gather its historical fragments, and then they are 
gone, whose fearless hearts, and hands of power, had made the forest bow, and 
planted civilization in the place of savaga rule- But in this case, we have m 
our midst the very men who figured in the infancy of the village ; and when 
another quarter of a century shall come round, they may be found, still active, 
and vigorous. God grant they may then be ablo to testify to the events, it is 
notf our pleasure to ehronicle* 



:k:a.la.m\a.zoo 



Kalamazoo is the County-seat of Kalamazoo Countv, situ.v 

u nP°u ^^® ^^^'^^ ^^ ^^^ *^"^^ "^"^^' ^"^ "earlv midway oa 

the Michigan Central Railroad, between Chicago and Detroit. 

It IS surrounded by a rich, well watered, and fertile country ; 

bv numerous small prairies, and by quiet, romantic lakes. 

Ihe village ]s regularly laid out, adorned with elegant and 

substantial buildings, for business, with comfortable and taste- 

p ^ n 1^"^^^' ^"^ beautified by trees and shrubbery. " The 

Bur Oak plain," upon which it is situated, is the spot selected 

by Cooper m his "Oak Openings,"^ for the introduction of 

his "Uee Plunter," who is an actual character, though now. 

untortunately for us, residing in a neighboring^ State. The 

beautiful native trees, which areusually the hrst object of 

attack to the pioneer, are hsve all )wei to stand in their 

primitive grace ; and add more than all other objects, to the 

ovelmess of the village. The prevalence of the forest trees 

has given the place the title of " Bur Oak City." though it has 

only a village charter. The trees, of stately growth, and 

relreshing shade, give it the appearance of greater age than 

belongs to it ; for it is little more than 25 years since the first 

civilized settlements were made here; and now, we have 

among us, men in the prime of life, who well remember the 

war-whoop of the savage, and the wild howl of the wolf, as 

he made his nightly rounds of plunder and death. 

Without any invidious comparisons, it may perhaps be safely 
attirmed, that Kalamazoo is the most picturesque of all the 
p easant villages of Michigan. It has the air of a New En- 
gland town, except that the animation of iis bustling population 
would soon convince a stranger that he was far away from 
the quiet of his earlier home. Possessing an extensive trade 
with the country north, west, and south, for the last vear or 
two It has sliipped more wheat than any other place on the 
Railroad. ^ 

Unhke many of our western vilbges, its population is more 
American than foreign ; and is variously estimated from 5000 
to 7000 inhabitants. They are distinguished for their enter- 
prise public spirit, inteJligence, and pride of their chosen 
dwelling place. 



©|e "J-^lm filjrarg |lss0chtion 



Was organized in the year 1852, by several ladies of th© 
viiiage. Their object was, not only personal improvement, 
but aiso to cultivate, in the community generally, and espec- 
ially in the rising generation, a taste, for such books as are 
real!}' u-seful To accomplish these results, they collected a 
1/ibr.iry, and obtaijied a charter. The Association is managed 
by a bourd of twelve officers annually chosen, and since its com- 
mencement has been steadily gaining upon the confidence of 
tlie public; while the Library, yet in its infancy, has become 
an object of interest, and a source of i?ood to all who have 
availed themselves of its advantages. Early in (he history of 
the Association, it was proposed to celebrate the compietioji of 
the first quarter of a century, since the •' Bur Oak plain " was 
surrendered by the savages, to the children of civilization. 
The subject was under consideration for some time, and it was 
finally (Jecided to attempt such a celebration. It was ascer- 
tained that the 21st day of June, 1854, marked the period of 
twenty-five years since sucb settlement was made. That day 
was therefore decided upon, and arrangements were made to 
celebrate the event in a becoming manner. Notice waa 
circulated, by means of newspapers, and hand-bills, and the 
interest of the community generally enlisted. 

E. Lakin Brown, Esq., from a neighboring town, and Col. 
CuRTENius, from our own vicinity, were appointed to act, as 
poet and orator. They freely responded to the wishes of the 
Ladies, and their interesting prodp.ctions will be found in 
another part of this volume, . At this stage of events, the 
assistance of the gentlemen was solicited, and promptly ren- 
dered ; and all the preliminary arrangements were judiciously 
made. A bountiful dinner providing for three hundred persous, 
was prepared by the Association, assisted by the Ladies of 
the village. The Firemen's Hall was selected as the place 
for the dinner, and was tastefully decorated with paiotio^* 
jind 6owerB. 



The ftiorniDg of the fist was dnrk and cloudj^^ving cti- 
^ence of an unpleasant day, and the threatening look* of 
the heavens appeared to indicate that the pleasantness of the 
celebration would be seriously diminished by winds iand storm, 
but like liie progress of our city, as time advanced, the clouds 
broke away, and by 11 o'clock in tlie morning, the sun shone 
forth in all its briliancy upon a refreshing scene, giving hopes 
of the most hnpny re^uit. The rains of the nmrning liad 
cooled and puriiied the air, and all was animation beneaih the 
oaken shade. 

At about half-past ten o'clock, our citizens assembled at tho 
Court House lor the purpose of participating m the exercises 
of our first "quarter century" celebration, and in a few 
motnents the house was filled to oversowing. Among the 
audience present, we witnessed many of the old pioneeis of 
the village, who were all interest and attention during tlse 
exercises. There were many strangers also present. V/e 
were particularly pleased to see so many of the youth of this 
village, the attention they exhibited, and the order and decorum 
with w'hich they behaved. 

The exercises were commonced by a few opening, and 
appropriate remarks, by the Prt sMontof the dav.Ex-GovERoa 
Ransom, after which the foilcvving order of exercises w'as 
observed. 

1. Music by the Kalamazoo band. 

2. Hymn read by Prof Graves^ and sung by the congre- 
gation. 

3. Prayer by Rev. Mr. TIoyt. 

4. Singing by the Glee Club. 

5. Address by F. W. Curtenius. 
G. Singing by the Glee Club. 

7. Poem, by Mr. E. L. Brown, of Schoolcraft. 

Tlie address of Ccl. Curtenius was listened to with deep 
interest and attention, not only as a Hnishcd literary production, 
but as a review of tlie past, and a well drawn ideal of the 
future. It created a favorable and lasting impression upon his 
auditors. The poem of E. Lakin Brown fully met the high 
wrongfit expectations of his friends. Its classic beauty and 
high t ;ne render it worthy of a place in the front rank of the 
poetical literature of the age. 

After the exercises at the Court House, the assembly pro- 
ceeded to the Firemen's Hall where an excellent dinner had 
been prepared (by the Ladiei' Library Association,) and those 



present, following the advice of the President, -'felltoandf 
spared not." After dinner the following volunteer and regulai 
toasts were given : 



Hegiilai- Toasts 



1st. The Quarter Certliry Celebration, of (he settlement 
of Kalamazoo by white mhabitants — its value can only be 
appreciated by those who come after us. Responded to by 
Joseph Miller, Jr. 

2nd. The Church and School house — in new, as in old 
countries, indispensable and inseparable. Responded to by 
Prof. Stone. 

3d. Kalamazoo and its like — necessary lessons in the 
World's education. Responded to by Rev. A. S. Kedzie. 

4th. The Ladies* Library Association — like some of its 
lamented founders, already immortal. Responded to by W. 
C. Dennison. 

5th. The Bur' Oak City— a sure prophecy. Responded 
to bv N. A. Ealch. 

6th. The Kalamazoo Theological Seminary — ** a city that 
is set on a hill cannot be hid." Responded to by Prof. Graves. 

7th. Our Firemen — helpers in fiery trials — the real cold \ 

water men of the age. Responded to by W. C. Ransom. 

8th. The Kalamazoo Farmers — reaping as they have sowed c 
Responded to by Joseph Miller, of Richland. 

9th. The Press — Reformation by information. Responded 
to bv J. W. Breese. 

10th. The Early Settlers— " workmen that need not be 
ashamed." Responded to by Gov. Ransom. 

11th. Our public improvements — elements of a higher civ- 
lization. Responded to by Rev. Mr. Hoyt. 

12lh. The day we celebrate — the 25th anniversary of th® 
settlement of Kalamazoo — it presents a broad and happy 
contrast to the " land-office times " of 'S5 and '36, RespojJ- 
ded to by T. S. AtLee. 



By E. H. Huntington. The decoration of the Firemen* 
Hall, for the present occasion — but another expression of the 
refined taste and excellent sense of the ladies of Kalamazoo. 

By iVir. AtLee. The iMremen of Kalamazoo — in adversity 
©ur best friends, in prosperity our honor and boast. 

The Glee Club and Kalamazoo band — their notes are good, 
and will always pass current in our midst. 

By S. S. Cobb. The Ladies' Library Association of Kala- 
mazoo — " brought up " on ice cream, it shovvs by its condition 
that it has had wholesome food; 

The Village of Kalamazoo — ^yet in its infancy, who can say 
Shat it is not a " prettv smart child for one of its age." 

By li. S. Babcock." The 2ist day of June, 1854— may this 
be a day long remembered by us all ; and may the next quar- 
ter century show a great increase in wealth, population, 
refinement, and all that constitutes a desirable acquisition to 
our glorious village of Kalamazoo. 

By S. S. Cobb. E. L. Brown, Esq., fro.m whose lips we 
have listened to the beautiful poem delivered this day ; may 
he live to favor us in like manner, on a similar occasion, a 
quarter of a century hence. 

By Mr. Frank Alley. The day we celebrate — the 21st of 
June, the longest day in the year. May the events of the 
day live longest in the memory of this association. 

The pioneer Mothers of Kalamazoo — if present, they might 
exclaim with the Roman mother, " these are my jewels." 

By N. A. Balch. The mothers of the East — may they ever 
be as well represented in the West, as by their fair daughters 
on this occasion. 

The pioneer women of Kalamazoo— the wilderness and the 
solitary place are glad for them, and children's children will 
rise up and call them blessed. 

By O. Starr. The Ladies of Kalamazoo — a rare combi- 
nation of bright flowers; gn embodiment of truth, love, and 
virtue. We exult in their Jirmness ; applaud their goodness, 
weep over their faults, and love, cherish, and protect thera 
always. 

By Doct. Ilendee, Dentist, &c. The Ladies of Kalamazoo 
---none present doubt their ability to get up the best filling for 
teeth. 

By Rev. Mr. Ke !zic. Col. Curtenius, the farmer, the citt- 
•zen, and the orator. 
2* 



Yoltisatecr Toasts 



By Mr. AtLee. Silas Lovell Esq., of Ionia, Mich., our 
respected invited guest ; our first Justice of tiiC Peace, and 
the pioneer who erected tiie first frame for a dwelling house 
in Kalamazoo. We cordially welconie him in our midst. 
Responded to by Mr. Lovell. 

By James P. Clapham. The memory of the late Gen. 
Burdick, one of the original pioneers and founders of Kala- 
mazoo, to him w^e are indebted for its prosperity, and fur the 
preservation of our beautiful burr oaks. 

By Judge Webster. The memory of Titus Bronsou, one 
of our earliest pioneers, and the first proprietor of a part of 
the plat of Kalamazoo. 

By Rev. C. C. Taylor. The mem.ory of the Rev. George 
Wrshington Cofe — honored, sacred, blessed. 

i^y George A. Filch. The Press and Cofiimon Schools — 
twin spirits of progress and reform. 

By Prof. Stone. Judse Harrison, Cooper's Bee hunter, tha 
greatest bee hunter of the age, and ihi', the greatest swarm 
lie ever discovered. 

By E. Lakin Brown, of Schoolcraft: The Ladies' Library 
Association of Kalamazoo— 

Siill, still pet-kirj£r knowleilgo, true daiiglitcts of Eve ; 
They eat of tire fruit withoiU notice to leave : 
Nay, so far from bidding rlieir Eden adieu, 
''J'is this that makes Eden of Kalamiizoo ! 

By N. A. Balch. The Ladies of Kalamazoo — Literaturs 
and Science boast their patronage ; genius and beauty grov7 
resplendent by their taste ; religion and morality own them 
as champions; the nch rejoice in their smiles, and the poor 
are made glad by their pi-ese^ice. 

By Mr. DeYoe. Ke Kalamazoo — the boilinsf pot, fnay its 
aboriginal name be held ever sacred, and may tiie wholesome 
fires of public improvement, enterprji^e, irileJligence and phi- 
lanthropy never go cut in cur midst. 

By H. S. (^obb. JNairie llonde, the Garden of tlio We^t. 

By J. ('. flays. The l^adies of Kalamazoo — their beau5v 
surpasses even tiiat of their beautiful village, and tlieir perse- 
veiance equals the indouutable spirit o'f trie early pioneers. 



11 

By Prof. Graves. The 21st day of June — it requires iUs 
longest (lay in the year to do justice to this occasion. 

By L. H. Tiask. Kahimazoo, proverbial as fair and beau- 
tiful in her youth — may her malurer years be brilliant with 
•uch gems as virtue, morality and benevolence. 

By J. R. Mansell. The quarter century anniversary of 
the village of Kalamazoo — an agreeable exchange from the 
hunting-ground and war-whoop of the child of nature, to th« 
embellishments of civilization ; may temperance, humanity, 
and virtue, guide its onward course, that its future may be a* 
propitious as the past. 

By W. C. Ransom. The surviving pioneers — may the 
frosts of autumn touch them lightly ; the last of life the best. 

Anon — Our worthy President and the oiiicers of the day : 
may they all meet together under like happy circumstances, 
before we say " farewell forever." 

By W. C. Dennisoii. The arithmetic of the west— multt- 
pHcation and addition — no subtraction or division. 

By V. Plascail. The Ladies of the Kalamazoo Library 
Association — engaged in the elevation of mind, may they 
never encourage any other distinctions in society than those 
which grow out of the right development of this god-like 
attribute. 

It was a day, long to be remembered in the annals of our 
village, not only from its close alliance with our local affairs, 
but from the perfect union and good fellowship which seemed 
to pervade all. 



Address of Col, Curteiims.^ 



Mr. President: — What means this gathering? Is it the 
sabbath, and are we here to worship supremacy, as we are 
wont to do on that sacred day? No ! in various ways I am 
reminded that it is not the Sabbath. 

Is it the anniversary of our Country's Independence, and 
are we assembled for the purpose of welcoming its return ; 
our bosoms overflowing with joy and gratitude ? No ! else 
we had heard the pealing of bells, and the boom of artillery, the 
usual heralds of such an occasion. 

Surely, the foot of no foe is pressing our frontier, and we 
are not convened for the purpose of maturing plans for mutual 
defence ? So far from it, we are at peace with all the world. 
Neither is it a gathering to express our indignation at some 
glaring outrage on the part of the Government ; that's the 
province of the politician, and wholly incongenial with present 
purposes. Nor yet is it to celebrate some fancied victory at 
the Ballot-bos, or some glorious achievement upon the tented 
field. Now the occasion contemplates no such features as 
these. Motives eharacterized by novelty on the one hand, 
blendmg interest with pleasuie and utility on the other, contrib- 
ute larg'ely to the excitement of the day. 

While ihe embroidery, and the various domestic arrangments 
of one portion of my audience are laid aside, and dismissed 
from their minds for the time being, with another portion, the 
plough has been left to stand idly in the furrow, — the plane 
and the chisel to stand cosily together upon the bench, and 
the hammer to repose quietly at the foot of the anvil, and we 
are found assembled for the purpose of celebrating the tri- 
umphs of PERSEVERANCE, of TASTE, aud of TOIL. A quartcr 
of a century havmg been stricken from the roll of time, since 
civilization first dawned upon the spot we now occupy, a spot 
endeared to us by the name of home, it were well to pause a 
little and contemplate our position. Memory, laden with th« 
jems of the past, comes and lays them down beside the fruit 



IS 



« 



f the present, and provokes comparison. As the events of the 
last twenty-five years roll in review before us, reflections 
partaking of various hues are awakened. Prosperity and 
adversity — ^joy and sorrow — success and defeat, each in turn 
contributes to swell the train, and to arrest the attention. Not- 
withstanding, inemory, faithful to her great commission, arrays 
before the mind scenes, rich in pleasure, lich in whatever nn- 
parts happiness and satisfaction to the heart : it is equally 
faithfid to lead many to the grave, and there temper their joy 
with their sorrow. It is through sunshine and showers -- 
through tears and smiles that the past is always to be reviewed. 

It is more particularly in consonance with our design to 
linger upon the past and present of our village — to wander 
back a quarter of a century, and to look in upon it, as it lay 
sleeping in its cvadle, — to watch, (as many of us have done,) 
its first feeble, tottering steps — to revive the emotions of 
pleasure it afforded, as from time to time, it gave evidence of 
a wholesome approach to maturity, and to speak, (as we do 
to-day,) of its present, prosperous condition. How great is 
the change whicii has come over " thij spirit of our early 
dreams. 

But a little while since, and Kalamazoo was known only as 
the haunt of the Indian, — to-day, no spot in Michigan is a 
centre of more attraction and beauty. We do not claim for 
it the splendor of Rome, nor the gaiety of Paris, nor the com- 
mercial prosperity of an overgrown metropolis, nor the 
literature of a Cambridge, nor the wealth of a New En<Tland 
village ; we lay claim to none of these. We speak of it as an 
inland settlement, (still in its childhood.) possessing as much 
native loveliness — claiming as much intelligence and refine- 
ment — givmg evidence of as much taste, and having before it 
as auspicious a future as any other village of its age in the 
almost boundless west. 

This is not uttered in a spirit of vam boasting : it is but the 
expression of an honest conviction. Travelers, intelligent 
and discerning, have again and again alluded to it as the New 
Haven of the west. And what more glowing comparison 
need we ask ? Others, cquallv intelligent, but more imagina- 
tive, compare it to a gem, thickly studded with prairies. 

Not more, however, for its beauty than its salubrity, is it 
distinguished. For its teallhfulness none can speak more 
(eelingly than th« Physician and the seiton. For its commer- 



H 

cial thr ft Pearl street can responcl most flattcrinoflv. For 
successfui professional skili, C<.)ngre.'^s, iIjc Bar, the Pulpit, and 
Medical Societies, can reply in tones reelecting credit and 
honor. 

Bui let us retrace our steps and go back to its dawn ; view 
it in the morning of its existence ; speak briefly of its origin 
and its founder, and then we shat{ be better prepared to dwell 
upon its present condition and to take a prophetic glance at 
its piobabfe future. 

In the month of June, 1899, a quarter of a centu»-y since, 
:a traveler reached the banks of a river just as the sun was 
painting the western sky. Travel stained and weary, ho 
rgeated himself upon the trunk of a fallen oak. Dravvirig from 
•either pocket a compass and a map, he commenced their study 
with an earnestness and an assiduity, indicative of a heart 
•enhsted in some important enterprize. While light contribu- 
ted a ray his examination was diligently prosecuied. nor did 
Jie desist untd twilight was merged in night. 

Tall, sprre and sun-burnt, with a countenance denoting 
intelliigcnce and determination, and the portraiture is com- 
plete. So far, as one might rely upon external ap[)earances, 
he had been wont to move in the medium sphere of life. 
Neither poverty nor wealth seemed to be his. At his feet lay 
a modest staff, which the forest, in his wanderings had gene- 
rously contributed to his support ; and by its side, (as of lit- 
tle vabie,) reposed an unassuming budget, containing at onco 
his larder and his wardrobe. 

Night throwing its shades around him, reminded him of the 
necessary operation which the cravings of the inner man 
solicited, and (>( those other little convenies ces which would 
contribute to his repose. His safety, not his comfort requi- 
ring it, he gathered together a few handsfnll of fuel, and by 
the aid of steel and flint, a cheerful flame threw Us light upon 
the water. These preparations consummated with no requium 
but th<3 hootiiig of the owl or the occasional howhng of the 
wolf; he threw himself upon the earth, and like a tired child 
soon forgot his troubles and his trials, and buried them in sleep. 

Forget did I say; not all, not everyiiiing ; he dreamed, he 
dreamed of his home, of his family, of his friends. He 
thought he was in their midst, and over and over again he 
repeated the story of his wanderings; he told them of the 
dense forests he had penetrated ; of the extended plains 



15 

over which he had Ira' eled, wiih here and there a tree stand- 
ing out in isolat(Hl grandeur, arrayed in a wealth of foliage, im- 
parting to the scene the deceptive appearrince of civilized 
hfe with none of its reality; he lingered in his tale, upon tho 
beautiful Prairies over which he passed, sown as he said, brod- 
cast wifii flowers ; he told of lakes and lakelets without num- 
bers, presenting surfaces not nniike burnished steel ; and while 
to the hunter, he spoke of deer and moose — he delighted thy 
children with stories of skipping fawns and birds of varied 
plumage. 

That n'ght like all other nights ended, and the sun of anoth- 
er dav dissipated at once the dew and the dream. The land 
whjch fancy had created retired before the lund which, owed 
its creation to a higher power. 

In the stream which looed the banks upop which he had 
slept, his mornins: ablution was performed. This done, and 
a hastv meal bearing an a})pai!ing resemblance to many a 
previous one, f)rtified him for another day's exploiis. With 
staif and budget thrown across liis shoulders he entered the 
stream, and in due time gained the opposite bank. While to 
some, the passage of a river, or the threading of a forest 
presents a formiflable obstacle, to the pioneer and the aspirant 
for adventure they are triflef;, — 

'• Trifles light, as air." 

The stream f/rdcd, his dii^ordered dress arranged, and (^n 
he went. Ever and anon he would pause and gaze and ad- 
mire. The day and the scone were such as would have woed 
the pencil. 

The Burr-oaks, (just as they arc to-day,) were out in full 
fohage and as he oc^casionally stopped and distuii)ed the soil 
with his foot or his sJaff. the exclamation would involuntary 
escape him, — "surely nature has been lavish here." 

Less than a mile of his journey had been accomplished 
when a mound stood directly in his pathway. Whether plan- 
led there by the hand of nat'.-ire, or whether art had assigned 
it was a problem which he was unable to solve. Without 
any decision, he again and again made its circuit. He then 
ascerjded to its summit, and as he gazed upon the surrounding 
•scene, his eye fell upon the garden beds of a tribe long since 
passed away, even beyond the bounds of tradition. I'hea 
h^ knew diat man was its author. 

And there upon that mound, not unlike a bronzed statute. 



16 

his Arms crossing liis bosom, methinksl can even now behold 
him standing. » Backwards, forwards, with his eye he swept the 
landscape, all the while his countenance lighted up with a 
smile, as if some p'easing panorama was moving before him. 
Then he would change his position for the purpose of catch- 
ing a newer vision, in the meanwhile the same smile of com- 
placency triumphing. 

Northward, away in the distance, which he could indis- 
tinctly discern through the intervening foliage was spread 
out one of natures giant meadows, inviting the scythe and 
telling of grazing herds. To the east he knew that a slug- 
gish stream meandered, for he had pleasantly dreamed upon 
its banks the night before. Then he turned to the south, and 
before him was mapped a luxuriant plain, which his judg- 
ment lold was equally adapted to the plat or the ploughshare; 
while to the west, a beautiful amphitheatre of hills of variou« 
heigius shut out a view of scenery beyond. 

In imagination, upon those hills he saw countless flocks 
feeding, and here and there, a villa, half concealed in shrub- 
bery. All this, he saw m fancy, and was satisfied. ** Here 
then," he exclaimed "is my journey's end.'"' " This is the 
Canaan, of which long I've dreamed." For hours, solitary 
and alone, he surveyed his little world, more and more en- 
chanted with the scene. His whole mind was absorbed in 
prospective plans. Virions of well-filled coflers — of untold 
tlocks and herds — and of groaning graineries constantly 
floated before him, and more tliaii once he thought the rust- 
Ting of the leaves spoke of fame and prowess. 

Every nook and corner of territory was closely scanned, 
with a view to the selection of a site for his future domicile. 

The selection of a desirable spot, combining all those ad- 
vantages, of which the pioneer is so chary, brought his la- 
bors to a termination. 

In process of time an unassuming cabin graced the selected 
isite, and in it, the wanderer and his family, with no evidence* 
of civilization around him, were securely inducted. All this 
way seem to wear the livery of fiction, and yet, like a irutli- 
fid historian, 1 have scrupulously endeavored to chronicle 
facts. Let the sequel furnish the test of fidelity to truth. 

The stream, upon which the weary wanderer i^lept in the 
summer of ]829. was the Kalamazoo. It glides there siilL 
T:iie Burr-oak plain, upon which he entered after fording \\w. 



ir 

river, is the sight of our beautiful village ; the mound upo| 
which he stood as he gazed on the surrounding scene and 
made the decision that it should be his home, still stands in 
yonder park, a monument, not only for a race lost to history 
or even tradition, but of the good taste of those v^^ho having 
the power, yet refused to exercise that power m its destruction. 
The luxuiiant meadow, which, through the foliage he could 
but indistinctly discern, is spread out there still, furnishing 
ample employment for the scythe, and abundance of food for 
the ox. 

The foundation of an asylum, which will one day reflect 
credit upon the place — the embryo college — the cemetery 
and various mansions are beginning to crown the western emi- 
nences m perfect accordance with the predictions of the far- 
•ecing pioneer. 

The humble cabin, to which we referred, has ceased to ex- 
ist to the eye. but to the memory of your speaker and to 
many of his hearers, it is as fresh as when it presented its 
unassuming proportions. 

In 1835 it was the residence of one who subsequently be- 
came the Chief Justice and the Chief Magist'^ale of Michigan. 
The builder and primary occupant of that cabin — the pio- 
neer of this village, and the travel-stained and weary adven- 
turer who slept upon the banks of the Kalamazoo a quarter 
of a century since, are one and the same — (to- wit:) Titus Bron- 
•on. It may not be known to all my audience, that for sever- 
al years this village was known as the village of Bronson, and 
as such always appeared upon the original maps of the ►State. 
It may not be devoid of interest, perhaps, to pause a mo- 
ment and enquire who is Titus Bronson. When we said 
that he was tall and spare and sun burnt, with a countenance 
bespeaking intellect and determinaljon. we described the man 
as he appeared to us. His mind was a store-house of histori- 
cal facts, strangely mingled with chimeras. The world was 
not created exactly in accordance with his ideas of propriety 
and perfection ; nor was society formed precisely upon the 
right baois. His study seemed to be, to devise plans for rec- 
tilying both. Few men possessed a memo»y so tenacious of 
whatever came within its grasp. Reading was to him a 
■ource of infinite pleasure, and whatever he read, was treai 
ured up, apparently without an effort, and could be referred, 
to years afterwards with reliability. 
3* 



18 

Often when we have encountered him, whether by the 
way-side, or in the field, or the forest, we have lingered for 
hours and learned of him. Whenever our conversation took 
that direction, he would travel back for centuries, and with an 
accuracy that was truly astonishing, he would run over the 
history of Rome, and Greece, and Carthage, from the day 
rhey were founded to the day they crumbled. With these 
subjects we supposed that we were somewhat familiar, yet 
we acknowledge we could learn of him. Eccentricity, 
coupled with an abrupt and unfortunate freedom of speech, 
reckless of his audience, begat in the minds of many a bitter 
dislike for him. By nature, a species of cosmopolite, no spot 
on earth havmg a strong iiold upon him ; soon tired with fa- 
njiliar objects, easily mortified by any appearances of neglect » 
tfiese added to an insatiable desire to identify his name with 
some giant achievement, were sufficient inducements for him 
to part with his interest in our village plat, and with tlie pro- 
ceeds, (unregretted save by a few ) he took once more the 
direction of the setting sun. 

Rumor, smce his departure, h;i3 sptiken of him at distant 
periods, and even then, but faintly. Five years since, and it 
was whispered that he was houseless, wifeless, penniless, 
spiritless; — Still later, (some two yeais ago,) and worn out 
in his endeavors to achieve some great exploit, broken-hearted , 
he emigrated to a land '' where the wicked cease from 
troubling, and the weary are at rest." 

We introduced him to you sleeping upon the banks of the 
Kalamazoo, we leave bim sleeping (" that sleep which knows 
no waking") upon the banks of the Mississippi, furnishing 
additional evidence that the path of fame and weahh, like the 
path of glory leads but to the grave. 

Such are some of the incidents connected with the early 
settlement of our embryo city. Identified with its infancy, 
are names perhaps more fauiiliarto my audience. Conspicu- 
ous among them,' are those of Cyrus Lovell, Major Edwards, 
Judge Ransom, Samuel II. Ransom, Genl. Burdick.. Judge 
Burdick, Doctors Porter, Abbott and Starkweather, Isaa-j 
Vickery. Silas Trowbridge, 'I heodore P. Sheldon, John i*. 
Marsh.^Amariah T. Prout^% Luther H. Trask, Rollin Woo. I, 
and though last, by no means least, Col. Thomas C. Sheldon, 
who wiihin the last ten days has taken his depaiture tor 
'• that bourne from wiience r^o traveller returns." 



19 

With sach an array of the elements of success ; with so 
anuch intelligence, perseverance, industry and pride of char- 
acter, it IS by no means surprising that a foundation so tirnri 
and permanent \vas laid, and that such a wealth of prosperity 
has resulted from their etforts. Succeeding these but a few 
years, came a class, whose displays of taste (ornamental, ar- 
chitectural and horticultural) have won for us the celebrity 
of a "model village." 

Though sufficiently vigorous and marked in its incipicncy, 
yet its growth, in comparison with the forced growth of other 
villages in Michigan might be considered slow and unwar- 
rantable. While others, under hot-bed appliances, leaped, 
(as It were ) into maturity ours was characterized by a sure 
and steady advancement. What, I would ask, is the com- 
parative position to-day ? Where is the village in the west 
that occupies a prouder place, or can boast of a more glo- 
rious and splendid prospective? Set memory at won^ : 
search anywhere and everywhere, within a circle hav?^ n 
diameter of two hundred miles, and then name the spot. 

Where will you find one v»rhose educational wants arc butici 
t>upplied, — whether common school — academic or theological ? 

Though there is ample room yet for improvement, where is 
there one, outside of New England, where morals take a 
wider range? Who has ever known her to disgrace herself 
with a mob or a murder ? Where will you find one whose 
sky is pierced by more spires — whose courts are more nu- 
merously pressed, whose pulpits are more ably filled — or the 
Gospel proclaimed with a less uncertam sound ! where, I re- 
peat it, where ? Show me one, whose merchants are charac- 
terized by more mlegrity ; whose Ledgers are more honestly 
posted, or whose prospects of one day becoming princes and 
closing their career on these western heights, amid splendor 
and honor and usefulness, are fairer f 

Whose mechanics rival ours — whether it be in mtelligence 
or skill or taste ? 

In what village do physicians find less pntients, or lawyers 
less clients ? Disease and htigatton find no fostermg spirits 
here. Tell me — where do appeals to sympathy or benevo- 
lence meet with a readier response? Where is hospitality 
more a bye-word, or patriotism and public spirit more thor- 
oughly ditfused ? Where are village newspapers better sus- 
Uined or more ably conducted ? 



Where will you find a more convenient, or a better arranged 
Post Office? — where more mailable matter, in proportion to 
its population, whether ir be newspapers or correspondence t 
Where are better house-wives — and a prospect of plenty 
more, just budding into womanhood ? where is a taste for lit- 
erature more extensively cultivated, than among the ladies of 
Kalamazoo? It would consume too much time to follow up 
these comparisons and contrasts. What will be the termina- 
tion of all this proficiency and success ? Will it be the mean* 
of inducing a relaxation of efforts, or will success already 
reached, cause us to pant after still further success? But to 
continue for a moment longer this train of thought. Where 
have candidates for the Presidency talked longer or louder 
than among our groves — or the people shouted longer or 
louder in reply ? 

As additional and still further evidence of our value and 
our importance, into what village (in the Union) has Execu- 
tive patronage flowed so profusely ? and where has jealousy 
been excited in consequence of it, to such an extent? 

What village is at the same time, heard in the Senate and 
House of Representatives of the Union ? What village en- 
rolls among its Bankers more ex-governors and ex-judges? — 
What comniunity can boast of millers who take less toll or 
turn out choicer brands ? To all these enquiries comes back 
the echo *• v^here." We might ask what village is environed 
by such fertility, or such an approved system of husbandry. 
Where is there such evidence of versatility and at the sair»« 
time of success ? To-day a merchant, to-morrow a farmer, — 
lo-day a farmer, to-morrow a merchant, — one day a mechan- 
ic, the next a grocer, — to day behind the plow, to-morrow be- 
hind the counter. There seems to be but a step between the 
furrow and the forum; between the plow and the platform. 
It would seem as though circumstances throwing us upon our 
own resources have made us a " peculiar people." These 
coaipansons in which I have indulged are not purely imagi- 
native, so far from it, they will be found, when closely scan- 
ned, to be life-like and characteristic. 

To the sensitive and the unassuming, the picture may bt 
thought too highly tinted — still facts have been aimed at, 
leaving to the future historian, the province of correcting or 
eadorsing. 

Upda an occasion like this (a quarter century festival) u 



21 

becomes us as far as possiblo to view tiie scene, with the sun 
falling brightly upon it, and not with a surcharged cloud hang- 
ing just above. It were a more grateful task U) put to your 
lips the sunny side of the peach. 

I might take you to the church yard and enter into a mathe- 
matical calculation with regard to the cost of all these achieve- 
ments, over which we have been boasting. After all it would 
teach us no lesson, buc our frailly, and might have a tendency 
to throw a pall over the festivities of the day, 

At best, the earth is but one grave-yard — at every step. 
you tread upon the dead. Though you take no heed of it, kH 
me caution you to step lightly, for your feet are continually 
pressing a grave ; I repeat, step lightly. 

And, since our thoughts have taken this direction, allow mt 
to enquire, where is the village which can boast of a cemeltry 
■o romantic and lovely as yours ? where one so replete with 
grandeur and beauty ? Wliy as you thread its avenues, (just 
aa twilight is melting into night,) and gaze upon the quiet rest- 
ing place of the dead, the grave is actually despoiled of itt 
Tictory. and as your mirid reverts to the various •' ills to which 
flesh is heir," and the thousand cares and perplexities of lift 
worm themselves unbidden in your bosom, you can contem- 
plate the monument with complacency, and only think of tho 
■leeper beneath, with emotions of ecslacy or envy. And now 
while we are roaming about that "m untain home," perhaps 
it would be right, nay, it is right, indeed, it would be wrong, 
it would be cruel, not to go and stand beside a new mad« 
grave. It's treasure, a mother and her children. And 
though it was far, far away, that the spirit and the body of 
that fond mother was divorced, yet in obedience to hcrdymg 
wish, she is permitted to sweetly sleep almost within' the em- 
l^race of her oflspri'.jg. 

Beloved by you all, and prominent in your association, it r« 
t« her influence and perseverance, as much as to any other, 
that the festivities of this day had th"}ir inception. Her lil» 
•ked out to this hour, and she would have been identified 
with this vast throng. While to-day vve are assembled, full 
of glee at the achievements of the oast, pluming ourselves 
jpon the triumphs of architecture, witli which our village 
abounds, mcihinks I can see her lookmg down upon us, her 
countenance radiant with the deepest solicitude, and can al- 
nioit catch the whisper as it steals from her parted lips " h* 



22 

IJUILDS TOO LOW, WHO BUILDS BENEATH THE STARS *, " " HE 

BUILDS TOO LOW, WHO BUILDS BENEATH THE STARS." 

It is alQiost unnecessary to say, that it is to Mrs. Kedzie 
that 1 alluiie. Most of you do know her well, and you who 
know her best, will longest cherish her memory. Without an 
enemy she lived, without an enemy she died, and for aught I 
know, or c?n leara, without a sin. As an appropriate offering 
to distinguished worth, the ladies of this Association, (of 
which fhe whs eminently its founder without any narrow 
reference to denominational distinction,) cannot better express 
their admiration for her virtues, than by the erection of a 
suitable inonument with a view to their perpetuation. When 
done, let the chisel sink deep into the granite shaft, the senti- 
ment "HE BUILDS TOO LOW, WHO BUILDS BENEATH THE 

STARS." 

Until such a memorial 'is consummated, metliinks virtue is 
but half rewarded. 

Man slays his thousands, scatters misery broadcast over 
the land, (often in a cause of exceedingly doubtful merit') 
and yet amid triumph and applause he is hurled into official 
position ho elevated, tMat moral worth, and talent and patriot- 
ism st'dgc*er under the idea of even essaying to reach it, or 
perchance he falls upon the field, and to-morrow a foundation 
broad and deep is laid in the earth, from which shoots up a 
column to such a height that its summit plays with the clouds ; 
thus perpetuating the hero's memory, and beguiling others to 
like achie 'foments. Dangerous display of popular sentiment. 

" iVot to the ensanguined field of death alone, 

is valor limited ; she sits serene in the deliberate council, 

Scan's each i^ource of action ; — weighs, prevents, provides, 

And scorns to count her glories fronm the feats 

Of brutal force alone.' 

But to return to the subject proper ; what I would ask, is 
the probable future of Kalamazoo. I make vo pietentions 
to 'the gift of prescience, or at all events, the most unas- 
suming, bat judgmg of the future by the past, and relying 
much upon its favorable geographical position, I may safely 
venture to predict more than ordinary results. As may be 
seen by the various comparisons and contrasts which have 
been instituted, it will at once occur to the hearer, that we 
have in our midst, and around us, many of the elements 
which enter into the growth, and contribute largely to the 
prosperity of a ciiy. And who doubts, where is the mafe 



23- 

who doubts that the village of Kalamazoo will ere long throw 
off its primitive vestments, and merge into a city of beautiful 
and desirable proportions '! How can we doubt, when as 
our eye traverses this audience, ii now and then rests upon tlic 
wife of a future Alderman, and e'en upon Aldermen them- 
selves, who while we are speaking about a city charter, are 
indulging in visions of c(>rporaiion feasts and turtle soup. 

Indeed, we are to-day a city, so far as a Fire Deparlment 
is concerned, in the full fruition of its privileges and immuni- 
ties. When the next quarter of a century festivnl comei^ 
around, a Mayor and Common Council will grace it with 
their presence, and participating in its festiviti^.s, will be l» 
perfect avalanche of muscle and mind. 

Alcohol will then not only be banished from the city, by 
law, but I very much fear t^^a and coffee will be deemed con- 
traband by custom and by physiology. 

And, to the delight of the assemblage on that occasion^ 
a Glee Club, now in embryo, will sing the beautiful and 
touching song — " Fakevvei-l to tea, to-day — tight boots 

AND TOBACCO." 

Many of us now in the prime of life, will tht-n either have 
exchanged our home here, for one upon yonder mountain, or 
will be seen leaning upon onr staffs, fighting our battles over 
again, or rehearsing stories of privation and i^truggles, while 
founding the village and the city. 

As if is to-day, I trust the occasion will then be a joyous 
one. There is nothing now to throw a gloom over the coun- 
tenance ; it's the gem month of the year, and it would seem 
as i{ the very birds and flowers had caught the spirit of the 
da\% and were leagued together in filling the air with melody 
and perfume. 

A friend visited me a few days since. It was his fir«t ap- 
pearance in Micnigan ; and like every sensible man who 
looks in upon us in the month of June, he was delighted 
Of Kalamazoo, rumor had often spoken, and he longed to 
behold it. And when he had fairly seen it. he said it remind- 
ed him of the story told by Virgil, of the simple spepherd 
who visited Home for the first time. He had always lived in 
a retired hamlet away in the interior of Italy. And when at 
length he had reached the city and entered its gate and sur- 
veyed for a time in muteness, its grandeur and its greatness^ 
kie was perfectly astonished. 



24 

"He expected " he said "to find it in proportion to his na- 
tive vilia^re, as the ewe to the lamb, but the proportion was 
19 the oak to the acorn." So in imagination, this friend of 
mine, had painted our village, a little hamlet, with here and 
there a white-washed cottage, a tavern and a blacksmith shop, 
■withal a suitable arena for the labors of a missionary. But 
nfier he had leisurely paced its walks and had encountered 
its blocks of noble buildings, and beheld others in the procesi 
of erection, which bid fair to excel their predecessors; when 
his eye fell now upon a mansion almost buried in foliage, and 
then upon another half smothered with rotes, when church 
after church rose up to condemn him, as it were, for his hasty 
judgement, to make amends for his folly, he determined to em- 
brace the first opportunitv of writing to his wife, that instead 
of being somebody, his tour to the west had convinced him 
that he was little better than the "simple Roman Shepherd." 

All this has been accoinplisfied. Ladies, and yet we have 
but just leaped out of the cradle, and are making, (with a fee- 
ble toaennij step) some expeiiments in walkinof. Still there 
is manhood before us ; time has much in reserve to encourage 
and reward our industry and our enterprise. His busy fin- 
gers are never idle — the f)iilse and the chronometer may 
•top, but lime never — never did I say, yes ! time once tar- 
ried. The -^un once stood still for hours, over the plains of 
Gibeon, and the moon hunii: pale and motionless over the vale 
of Ajalon. But we'll have no stopping of the sun or moon 
here, our village marshal will attend to that. 

What, after all, has contributed more than anything else, 
to give celebrity to our village and to make such a favorable 
impression upon the stranger mind? 

Not so much its evidence of refinement, as the good taste 
which has been exhibited in permitting the glorious oaks to 
itand just where God, with his own right hand planted them. 
How many exclamations of admiration have these trees elic- 
ited, scattered as they are over the plain in lovely disorder? 

How many fruitless attempts elsewhere, to equal, if not 
excel us, by a resort to artificial means? The eflforts by 
rival villages, are laudable and noble, and will have praise- 
worthy results. Why, recently Mr. Bowen (of the distin- 
guished firm of Bowen & McNamme of New York city) 
donated to his native village, in one of the New England 
States, the liberal sum of $600, to he expended in transplant- 



2S 

jng shade treas.throughout its streets. This act alone betrays 
the emotions of a good man's heart. Even while he lives, 
ills monument is being erected, and as long as those trees 
>liali stand, his memory will be as green as their foliage.— 
One such patron of taste in each village will transmute it 
into a paradise. 

Instead of exerting the utmost care in preservmg thepc 
iialural structures, there are every where found some, hav- 
ing no love of the beautiful in their souls, who seize upon 
every opportunity to dish'gure or destroy them. Such men 
are unworthy of one's friendship, and should be cast aside as 
only *' fit for treason, stratagem and spoils." 

In bringing my remarks to a e- vse, allow me, l^adies, to con- 
gratulate you on the Eden-like termination of your west-ward 
wanderings; — to congratulate you upon the progress of re- 
finement wisich society is achieving in your midst : — to con- 
gratulate you that so many privileges from which you severed 
yoursblves, when you turned your backs upon your Eastern 
homes, have so closely fol'oweu you ; that like the missionary 
you are instrumental in carrying to the verge of civilization, 
the joys of social existence, that you have escaped the din 
and confusion of Metropolitan life and find yourselves in the 
occupancy of a spot, where ev^ry needed luxury is within 
your grasp and where from morn till eve, your eye can re- 
fresh itself by sweeping over see ner}^ not unlike the scenery 
of romance. And not only to congratulate you upon the oc- 
cupancy of such a {.pot, but of such a spot in such a nation ; 
a nation whose claims to greatness exceed that of any other 
upon the face of tho globe. Not a breeze, but is freighted 
with intelligence of our Vciue and our magnitude. While 
Europe is filHng up with captives, our cofjntry is filHng up 
with exiles. At peace with all ; our am.ity courted and hug- 
ged ; every cannon muzzled, and our marine busy in bearing 
bread to the starving portions of the world ; v/hat a delight- 
ful picture does it present to the christian and the philanthro- 
pist, and how admirably calculated to cultivate a spirit of 
enthusiasm. 

The imagination loves to break away from every a-eatraint 
and go out, and revel in just sucU a field as this. For three 
quarters of a century we seem to have had the uninterrupted 
smiles of Supremacy, and it is oaly the pohtical skeptic who 
is blind to the "manifest destiny" that is in reserve for 41s, 
4* 



26 

Ccntiirv tieading close upon the heel of century, will rolf 
awry rr d be forgotten, but our nation will stand and blaae 
en iii MiG ni'dst of increasing glory. Demagogues and de- 
£... f.i ; pcl^r^cians may shout disunion till their throats are 
scio. li't fdter not — He'll not permit it. It has been pur- 
chascvi at a cost of too much treasure, and suffering aid 
biC :i!; t J be £0 soon sacrificed. 

" Dissolve this Union, never, 

T'were e'en a madman's part 

The golden chain to sever 

TJiat girdles Freedom's heart. 

What ! faction rear her altar. 
And discord wave her brand,. 
And hearts from duty falter 
At party's base demand ? 

Look up ! 'tis Freedom's temple 
You long to overthrow, 
And if your arm's uplifled, 
A demon prompts the blow. 

Think ! every radiant column. 
Has cost a Patriot's blood, 
And would you see them shattered^ 
Where long in pride they've stood T 

Dissolve the Union, — never ! 
You may not, if you would : 
Go ! traitor, go, forever 
Hide you, where you should. 

For he who breathes dissension 
To shake a people's trust, 
Should cower back to nothingntWy 
Or crumble into dust." 



POEM, 

JHlivered before the Ladies Library Association of J^h'>y.-B at 
tk$ Quarter Centennial Celebration of the Setaeiiuni of a.>.m«- 
9o;Junt2Ut, 1854. 

BY E. LAKIN BROWN. 



When gory war laya waste a happy land. 

And arms with blood-red scourge oppression's hamd ; 

When cities sacked, and pillaged farms betray 

The unmeasured woes that mark the lust of swaj ; 

Then comes the bard, and with triumphal song 

Exalts the victor and conceals the wreng : 

Or, when grown old, out-worn with blood and crime, 

Some^hoary empire yields to fate and time, 

In sad, pathetic strains the poe tsings,— 

Rome's ancient glories, or Assyria's kings. 

O. humble harps of mine I if such the strain. 

Well might thy trembling strings be touched in Ttim :- 

No songs of joy should greet the» warrior's ear 

Save such as freedom beu is with joy to hear : 

No sad lament should mourn oppression's fall, 

Save •' mene tekd " on hsr cruntbling wall. 

Bat if tl-e noble contest of the free 

With untamed nature, and f.ie victory ; — 

If the fair village and the fruitful plain 

That late usurped wide nature's drear domaii ; — 

If Kala's fair invite such strains of thine. 

How should thy numbers swell, O, honored harp of ml 

Fit were such theme for his immortal strain 

Who sung * Sweet Auburn ' loveliest of the pUi« ; 

Yet pensive sung, in mournful garb arrayed, 

A ruined land, "by luxury betrayed." 

O. how unlike the theme that greets me now ; — 

The pearls that shine on Kala's youthful brow I 

Her brief; bright childhood, drawn on memory'f paj^ 

And all her glorious hopes of future age 1 

I taw thee, Kala,— 'twas but yesterday ; — 



line 



28 

When these thronged streets in nature's stillness lay 
Kala's fair stream that rolled its silver tide, 
By pendent boujrhs embraced on either side ; 
The flickering shadows of the leafy trees ; 
The tall grass waving in the summer breeze ; 
The grazing d-er, whose restless ear now turns 
Where the lone ringdove Scidly sits and mourns ; 
Now, where the squirrel, brisk with chattering glee, 
Drops his peeled rind from out the walnut tree ; 
The listless Indiar.,|who§e quick?eve is cast 
To seek th© hawk whose shadow glances past; — 
These were the visions fair that graced the scene — 
Nature's own wild, untrodden, stainless green. 
And^yet the traveler's curious eye might trace 
Mysterious tokens of a vanished race : — 
Long rowa of garden beds, in order due. 
Where once; what unknown plants, luxuriant grew t 
'What various flowers repaid the florist's care. 
Spread their gay blooms, and scented all the air ! 
Now the old oak upon these beds appears 
Intruder still, though half a thousand years 
O sole possession, ratify his claim 
Against the fruits and flowers without a name. 
There, too, the mound its cone-lika form displays, 
Enduring monument ot other days ! 
See what is fame ! some brave old warrior here, 
Chief of his tribe, to fame and glory dear, 
In battle slain, afier an hundred foes 
Had felt the vengeance that a warrior owes-. 
Is tombed, with all that savage pomp could give 
Te bid the memory of the hero live; 
And, lest the warrior in the shadowy land 
Might need £ome weapon for his shadowy hand. 
His well-strung bow is placed beside him Iktp, 
His coj.'per hatchet, and his a^hen spear; 
And meet provision for the ethereal plains. 
Venison and corn an earthern jar contsins : — 
This heaped up mound of earth remains the >j;uiie, 
But of the warrior, neither race nor name ! 
il-are, by this lonely mound in forest deil 
Might pensive melancholy love to dwei!. 
And xnube on all the vanity of things ; — 
The fame of warriors, and tiie prido of k'n)<^s I 
Yhi even here, o'er these deserted phiius. 



29 

Wlioro nature slumbers, and where sileirre reigns : 

Whore the drear past has rolled its fruitless years. 

And pcarco a record of their flight appears, 

A change is comiiirr, and the sign is nigh. 

Filled with stransregwonders to prophetic eye ; 

For lo 1 slow moving through the oaken glade, 

Now gleaming in the sun, now daricouing iu the shade, 

A canvass-covered wagon looms in view ; 

The deer espies it, and the/ed man too ; 

A few light|bounds the wild dee? Ogives, and then 

Stops, looks, and snorting bounds away again : 

The Indian, to his native caution true, 

An intervening tree conceals from view : 

Whence, peering out liii, keen obse vHnteye 

Watches the lumbering vehicle draw nigh^ 

O, artful Indian ! and O, bounding deer I 

Well may ye note that white.topped wain draw near ; 

For wheresoe'er that vision has been seen 

Your race h»\s vanished from the woodland gre«n I 

But slowly on, the laboring wagon rolls. 

Through open glades, and o'er surrounding knolls. 

To where a brook winds merrily along, 

Gladding its journey with its own low song. 

Now on the bank of the meandering rill 

This strango,'intruding vehicle, stand-s still ; 

And he to whom its long-arched roof gives birth 

Has nowhere else his prototype on earth. 

His speech is that of England, but yet free 

From English brogue, no foreign'brogue has ha . 

A certain something in his careless air 

Proves not her culture if her blood is there : 

In his queer lexicon of words, are some 

Derived from Keniuck or from Hoosierdom ; 

His strong right hand the ready rifle grasps. 

His axe, the left, with equal vigor clasps ; 

With equal nerve, prepared the foe to meet, 

Or lay the forest prostrate at his ieet. 

His head erect, his bearing proud^and free, 

Might fit Castilian knight of high degr^^e . 

Yei more unlike in heart and thought and deed — 

Than Sancho's master and his sorry steed : 

He spurns all tinsel and all false pretanse, 

His guiding genius, sterling common sense- 

Deep in his breast the fires of freedom dn-ell 



30 



As ia the children of the land of Tell ; 
Lightly he'd reek in war's red front to stand, 
Battling for freedom and his native land, 
Wher'er their wings Columbia's eagles spread. 
His country's ensign waving o'er his head ; 
But not, poor Switzer, not like thine, his sword 
Is the drawn, hireling of a foreign lord. 
A little boastful, yet 'tis oft'ner shown 
To prove his country's prowess, than' his own ; 
*Tis whatwjfl are he boasts, not what / am ; 
His faith, and hope, and pride, is Uncle Sam : 
Of his own country's universal heart 
His quicker throbs, tofeel itself a part ; 
He deems no special guerdon due, because 
He loves his country, and obeys her la'vs ; 
Saving alone, ;the right to meet her foes, 
Or make " the dessert blossom as the rose." 

Ye'helpless, heartless, mercenary band. 
Like Egypt's frogs, that fill, and curse the land ; 
Whose noisy croakings indicate your zeal 
For your own private, not the public weal ; 
Though skilless all to guide your own affairs, 
Yet of the public, claim to manage theirs ; 
To all above, with servile fl ittery bow, 
Yet proud and arrogant to all below ; 
Ye slimy crawlers for the public pelf. 
Whose creed is party, and whose party self : 
Go. note the hardy pioneer, whose hand 
Widens the borders of his native land ; — 
GrO, note him well, and learn, if learn ye caa, 
What 'tis to be a patriot, and a man I 
And there if'one whose true and trusting heart 
Braves with him all, and bears in all, a part ; 
Where'er he wanders, or what ills betide, 
She shares his fortunes, ever at his side'i 
On the broad prairie, or in forest gloom, 
His humble cabin is her happy home, 
from her loved friends and kindred far away 
The faithful-hearted 'labors, day by day. 
Courageous Spirit I w:io could bear like thea 
Thy lonely life, thy toil and poverty ! 
With wifely cares the weary hours beguila, 
And make even barron desolation smile I 



31 

When the lone traveler on Illina's plain*, 

Or where Iowa spreads her^ broad domaipi. 

Benighted, weary, dubious of his way, 

That endless seemed, and trackless, e'^en by day ,- 

Nought but the prairie wilderness around, 

No cheerful tree, and no familiar sound; 

Nought but the curlew's wild and wailing cry. 

Or the marsh bittern's dismal melody; 

Or, as thick darknass settles on the plain, 

The wolf's long howl js answered back again ;• 

Of the lone cabin, like a setting star. 

Descries the light, dull glimmeiing from afar. 

Plow, with a lightened heart, and quickened pace, 

He hastens toward that welcome resting-place ; 

For well he knows that woman's hand is there 

To lay the couch and spread the humble fare ; 

And, though without, all cheerless seems, and meaa. 

Order, and joy, and comfort reigu within. 

Such are the homes, the nurseries of a race 

That stand unrivalled on the earth's broad face ; 

Such were the homes that lined ihy sounding shore, 

O, bleak New England ! in the days of yore. 

Such homes, such mothers nurtured those strong arm* 

And stronger hearts that, when wild war's alarmi 

Had paled the cheek, and quailed the heart of all 

The sons of fear whom tyrants can enthral. 

At the armed despot stern defiance hurled. 

And Freedom's flag, on the free air unfurled ! 

Such were the mothers, and such homes were they,--- 

The natal homes of "Webster and of Clay, 

Why have these names, and many scarce less gre«t, 

Sprung from so low a source, so rude a state ? 

Ye tilled lordlings ! it were well to know 

Fair Freedom's children maybe poor, not low : 

Her poorest son may fix on fame's bright star ; -- 

No laws oppress him, and no titles bar : 

And the clear voice that in rude cabin rings, 

May charm grave senates, and may humble kingi : 

Up toward the good, the great, the right, the high. 

The way is clear for all, as toward the sky ; 

Which only wrong, law's stern restraints may know 

As earth's foundations bar the depths below. 

' Tis this, my country ! makes thy glorious nam» 

A v/atchword to the nations ; -- a bright tlame 



32 

With living fir© to wither and consume 
OM giant tyrannies ; and to illume, 
O'er all the earth, with Liberty's clear light, 
Oppression's gloomy realms, her long and dreary night 
'Tis this that leads the exile to thy shore, 
rieasod to remain, an exile now no more ; 
Or in far nations shields him ; — and how well. 
Kozsta can answer — or let Austria tell. 
'Tis this that gives to berve the countless sons 
A slave tar batter than all human ones — 
Bright-eyed and many-handed, that ere long- 
Shall purge that foul hereditary wrong 
Wherewith thy young limbs fester ; for in rain 
The galling fetter and the clanking chain, 
To serve our needs or feed our luxury. 
Facile Invention ! shall compete with thee, 
'Tis this that moulds, with utmost skill, the form 
Of the winged ships to brave the ocean-storm ; 
With least resistance pan the yielding tide. 
And dash the billows from her shapely side : 
With nicest art that forms the spreading sail 
To catch the utmost of (he favoring gale ; 
Until the boasted mistress of the sea 
Reluctant yields, and leaves the palm with thee. 
'Tis that sends careering fast and far. 
In thousand mazy lines, the rapid car ; 
That, fire-impelled, its flaming course is driven. 
Like the red meteoe o'er the face of heaven I 
'Tis this that o'er earth's cold and torpid breast. 
That since creation lay in lifeless rest. 
Spreads finest nerves, that permeate the whole, 
And with electric fir© makes it a living soul. 
Lands far removed, by mountain, lake, and sea, 
Are joined in bonds of mutual sympathy ; 
The quivering neroes the distant impulse feel, 
And swift as light the far off thought reveal. 
'Tis this that scatters with unfettered hand, 
In countless thousands, wide throughout the land, 
With all their power to instruct, to improve, to bless. 
The unnumbered offspring of liberal press : 
Those airy tpirits that, on untiring wing, 
To every hearth their various tidings briig ; 
Each outrage new of hoary wrong proclaim, 
Each noble action consecrato to fame ; 



33 

With prompt alarm warn of each thrAatened rightc 
And drag corruption's darkest deeda to light. 

O, Holy Freedom I these are but the sign 

And visible out-croppings of the mine 

Of countless wealth that lies concealed in thee : — 

Wherever settler fells the forest tree, 

Turns the fresh soil and builds his little home» 

Thou, guardian spirit I with him there dost com© ; 

'Twas thou that lod'st hitn to the forest wild, 

Cheer'd all his toils, and on his labors smiled. 

Wherever Learning's first rude temples stand. 

There they were planted by ihy careful hand ; 

And p11 above, of v/hatsoe'er degree. 

From thee are sprung and dedicate to thee. 

Where'er Religion lifts her heavenward spire 

Her lights were dim without thy holy fire ; 

And scarce a hamlet where thy foot has trod 

But ha>! its temj)lc pointing up to God. 

Virtue and Truth from old oppression i3,ee. 

And find congenial home alone with thee ; 

And maiden purity and manly pride 

Dwell where thou uvvell'st, and flourish by thy lide, 

O, can it be ! and shall thy sons confess. 

Natured by thee, they learned to love the© less ; 

And for a pottage but less vile than they, 

Cast half thy glorious heritage awav I 

Say, shall thy beams that light our northern sky 

Grow sickly pale, and fitful flickering, die, 

Quenched by tha baleful breath of slavery ? 

No, Freedom, no I the hideous monster's power 

Is rushing headlong to its fated hour : 

I see thy sons in countless numbers rise, 

And on the wind 1 hear their vengeful cries ; 

• Back, demon ! back I back to thy noisome den-i 
The soil of Freedom rears, not slaves — but men ? * 
Humbled, abased, I see the fiend retire, 
Appalled with fear before thy children's ire I 

And thou, O, Kala ! happy thrice art thou 
That Freedom's gems adorn thy shining brow ; 
And happv, too, not thus alone to stand ; 
But many a sister fair, throughout the land, 
Like thee adorned, lifts her proud head on hifk, 
iu youthful grace and glorious roajeity ; 



34 

Sprung from one scurce, to the same rrcal ye tend, 

One common pnrcni and o -e common end : 

A Sister band, by Freedom linked in iove,l 

Throngh the long conr^c of future years ye move ; — 

Piophetic eye, through the dim misls nfar, 

Msy note eacli brilliant, although differing star : 

In varied ronptelia ions see ihem shine 

With Pght : rd harmony almost divine ; 

'Till, gnziiw^ loti J, on the fair scene injent, 

Dazzled and blinded turns fiom Freedom's firmamoiit. 

So brief, so bright thy past : thy coming year* 

So frau2ht w-iih hopes so all nndimmedwith fears ; 

And on thy natal day, wiir. garlands crowned, 

Thy own glad presence scailerclh joy around : 

Yet in thy joy a padncs shades thy biow 

For many a noble boa it ail r'ul.'t!es«« now 

That were of ihee. the glory ; many an eve 

Whose kindling glance beamed on thy infancy 

Is closed fore >'er ; many a voice s stilled 

Whose tones i.f l-^ve thiougli all thy being thrilled : 

And ihese areg.itie, O. Kala, bke a dream 

Whose eni]'ty visions :irc not what they seem : 

And incur turn, ore long, we too, shall pass. 

Like inane shadows in the silvered glass. 

And who have made and make thee what thou art» 

As fate decrees, f-hall one bv one dc-part ; ; 

But ibon will siiil leuKiin ; for ihee appears 

A long-diav/n vista of un- numbered years : 

I See thee far adown ilie centuries. 

The lijjht and jo\ of myriad loving eyes; 

Kala. the beauiirul ! thy Indian Uiimo 

And the Gr;ek liquid epithet the same ; 

Kahi, c kfda ; be thou ever so 

While ill thy gentle streatn its si! veiy waters flow. 



fi'ArHy ISiitlieineiit of Ktilimi^soO. 



The first s-^itler who pitched his tent on the present site of 
Xalamazoo or Branson, as it was originaily calbd, seems to 
hare beea Titus Bronson ; whose ch iracter is described by- 
Col. Carte lius in 'lis aidress ioim i in this volume. 'I'his was 
in the sutnn jr of 1821), darinof which, and the following sea- 
son, several fri'nihes setilod in the vicinity. 

But s) slow had been the progress of emigration, or so 
fiuctiiatiirr had been its character, that in the spring of 1833, 
only three! |;»g houses, four framed ones and two shanties or 
*'cktentes," eonp')sed the village of Bronson. During that 
lummer, h >weve)-. three or four more houses were erected, 
and as a L^and oiFice was establishetl in lh;U year, settlers and 
speculators began to make their a;jpearance. In Oct. 1835, 
a newsp:ipcr was established under the nime of- The Michi- 
gan SiaiesiTian." published by H. Gilbert, Esq. From an 
April number of 1833. we mike the following extracts: 

"By a recent act of the L-^gislature, the name of our vil- 
lage h-is been ch;ingod Irorn Bi'onson to Kalamazoo. This is 
asitsliojid be, our County, township and villige have now 
the sa>ue naaie. Kalamazoo was ihe name given our noble 
river, aa I a b^.aitiful piairie vvliich it laves, by the ab )r»gin«i 
of the cou;iiry. Less than two short years sinre our village 
contained but one or two framed houses, and as many !oj 
cabins, to wiiicdi the rude wigwams of the In liai^. had then 
but jusL g.VL;;! place. We hive n )W ab->!Jt six'y tVame 1 dweK. 
ling houses, nriiiy of them large and well liuivh-jj, and ten-, 
anted wiih a population of many hundreds." I5ut in all ear^- 
ly histories, ti'stunony is found to be co'iiflictiug. JFrom a 
letter received from an early resident, we are permitted to. 
m-ake the f>llowiug extracts. " I arr,ved in Kalauiazoo on 
the ah of April ISS'o. and resided, there until iSIX At the 
lime of my coiniuf;, KalamaEoo \,ad been just incorporated 
by the Territorial Council, as K:alanazoo ; the origma' namt,. 
Bronsou. having been abrogat^jd. Tlie inhabitants «)n the vil- 
lage plat could nDt have exceeded fiftv in number, and 



36 

tvery house seemed to be in the woods. The U. S. Land 
office being located there, a number of land dealers were aU 
^ays fluctuating about the place, which might have induced 
the casual observer to rate the population at a higher figure. 
But counting only those attached by home interests, to the 
spot, I think my estimate correct." Not only was the village 
of Kalamazoo called Bronson, but the township was called 
Arcadia, from a beautiful clear stream, which runs through 
the northern part of the village. In the early settlement of 
the town and village, bears and panthers were very common, 
but wolves were much more numerous and destructive. — 
They were a constant annoyance to the inhabitants, so that 
ihose who had cattle or sheep, were obliged to confine them 
in pens, close to their dwellings; and even then they were 
not always safe. 

Among the early records of Arcadia, we find the following 
notices : — " At a towm meeting of the electors of the town of 
Arcadia, held on the first iMonday in Aprd in ] 834, it was 
voted to raise one hundred dollars for the destruction of 
wolves ; and that four dollars be paid for every scalp taken 
in said town, untd the hundred dollars be expended; and 
after that time no person shall receive any compensation for 
wolf scalps, the remainder of the year." " Voted that th© 
first certificate presented to the Supervisors shall draw the 
first money, and so on, until all the 8100 shall be expended." 
Like notices are found in 1635 and 1836. At a similar 
meeting " on Monday, Aprd 1838, it was voted to rai^^e 8100, 
for the support of the township poor; and $100 lor bounty 
on wolf scalps at 84,00 each." 

In 1836 a loan was authorized for the purpose of erecting 
a Court House and Jail, which were completed durnig the 
year 1837 or 1838. 

The earliest settlements, in Kalamazoo County, were made 
upon "Praiiie Ronde," which has been imperfectly described 
bv Cooper, in his *- Oak Openings." \n Nov. 1828 Bazel 
Harrison, afterwards a Judge of the County Court. Henry 
Whipple, and Abram Davidson, arrived at the Prairie with 
t?»eir families and teams. The first furrow was plowed by 
Erastus Gudford, who arrived soon after the persons before 
named. During the next year a grist mill was put into opera* 
lion l)y John Vickers, which proved a great convenience ta 
(he inbabilanlfi, as ihey were before obliged to travel seventy 



37 

miles over bad roads, to get their grain ground at the nearest 
mill. 

Mr. Vickers' mill, situated near the West side of Prairi« 
Ronde, would now be consideied a curiosity, as " it was built 
of logs, and had a pair of mill stones 14 inches in diameter, 
which ran up edgewise." "It was built for the purpose of 
cracking corn, in preference of breaking with a mortar," 

The first deed upon record in Kalamazoo Co., Territory of 
Michigan, was given by William Harris to Hiram Moor and 
Erastus ct. Jackson; by which the VV. 1-2, of S. W, 1-4, of 
Section 17, In Township 2, South Range, 10 West, was sold 
for the sum of 8300. This deed is dated the 8th July 1831. 

The first mortgage recorded was dated May 16th, 1831 
tnd was between John Knight and James Knight of the 1st 
party, and Henry Stevens of the second party. " At a session 
of the County Court, of Kalamazoo County, held Oct. 17th, 
1831, Cyrus Lovell, Esq., presented to the Court, a petition 
from the proprietors of the village of Bronson, and its citizens, 
requesting an alteration in part of the plat of said village. — 
The Court then adjourned to meet io-morry morning at 8 
o'clock." 

(Siorned,) BAZEL HARRISON, ) Justices op 
STEPHEN HOYT, \ County Court. 

"At a session' of the same Court held May 22d, 1834, the 
petition of Nathan Harrison was presented, for license to 
keep a ferry across the Kalamazoo River, opposite the village 
of Bronson. On reading and filing the petition in this matter, 
it is ordered by the Court, that the said petitioner be author- 
ized and licensed to keep a ferry across the said river, at the 
place aforesaid, for the term of one year from this date ; on 
his entcrmg into a recognisance pursuant to the Statue, with 
one surety. And it is further ordered that the said Harrison 
do pay a Territorial tax of three dollars." 

In the *' Michigan Statesman " of May 5th, 1838, is found 
a notice that " the village of Kalamaxoo has just been incor- 
porated." 



TSie Indians. 



The " Bar Oak Plain," upon which Kalamazoo is built, atid 
the neighboring prairie known by ihe name of '• Prairio 
Ronde," were favorite resorts of the Indians of the Potta- 
wattamie and Ottawa Tribes, at the time of the settlement 
by the whiles. Like all the other American inbes, they led 
a vVandcring life, remaining by the river for months, and then 
suddenly packing up ihcir tew conveniences for living, and 
deparling, as it seemed, to their white neiLdibors, without any 
other o'jject than that of change. Portions of our b(?autiful 
Tillage are yet pointed out to the curious inquirer, vvliich were 
used as gardens by the Indians. Here tho vvomon cultivated 
the corn, with no implement of husbandry but a hoe. The 
present strength and fertility of these grounds, show how ju- 
diciously they made their selections. The corn was planted 
in hiljs, raised one or two feet above the surface, and at th« 
proper season, was harvested and buried in deep holes lined 
with bark. Corn so secured, often remained for months un- 
molested, either by man, or the more insidious ravages of rats 
and squirrels. After the corn was secured, the Indians gen- 
erally prepared for their winter hunting quarters. They then 
removed to the dense forest, where deer and other game 
were more abundant, and where no rivals could be found in 
their hunting grounds. They had no domestic animals, ex- 
cept horses nnd dogs, and the cow was an object of so much 
curiosity, that they often came a long distance to look at one. 
Butler and milk they could not be prevailed upon to use.— 
Their houses were formed of mats, woven by the women, 
from flaL^s, and supported by poles. These mats and polei 
were transported from place to place, and it was a labor of 
only a few hours, to erect a whole village of these temporary 
■nd yet durable habitations. The tire was built in the centre 
of the dwelling, and the smoke after freely circulating through 
the apartment, found its way out as best it might. 

A few kettles, a few skins, and a few baskets for carrying 
burdensj composed the household conveniences of the child 



39 

of the forest. His food was as simple as his habits of life.-- 
Corn was the onlv article of cultivation, and this was cooked 
in onlv two wavs. The first manner of preparation was to 
boil the corn with ashes and water, until the husks separated ; 
then it was taken in baskets to a stream ot running water, 
where it was shaken about and thoroughly cleansed. Anoth- 
er manner of its preparation was this: — The corn was 
pounded in logs, bv the tomahawk, till it was well broken, and 
then boiled. This, with the venison and other game, formed 
the bill of fare of the simple Indian, and was without (.oubt, 
one cause of the few diseases by which he was annoyed.— 
His system of cure was contained in a few roots, and lae tree 
use of cold water. , 

Still, the Indians l.ad their doctors, who were esteemed and 
venerated, and after death were honored by a distinguished 
burial. The funeral crremonies of the Indians were conduct- 
ed without priest, or form nf service, but the howling and 
mourning of relatives, evinced tl:c same ardent ^^^"^'^^f kin- 
dred and' frienfl. as is fciund in more civilized Ide. Most of 
the dead were buried in shallow graves, dug by the bee, but 
persons who were distinguished either by their talents, their 
virtues, or their vices, wen^ honored by remaining above 
ground, and having a house built over them. Thus on one 
occas-ion a murder had l>een commiltcd, and not only the 
murdered man was thus distinguished, but also the assassin. 
Whenever a murder was detected, a council was held, and 
he who was nearest of kin to the murdered man, was ap- 
pointed the executioner of the criminal. 

Their canoes were i^adt? of birch bark, and were much 
emploved at certain seasons of the year in lit^hing. They 
were alsc so light as to be easily tvansp<uted from stream to 
Stream. The Kekaiamazoo river, as the name was originally 
called, was then abundantly supplied with lish of immense 
size, of which the Indians availed themselves, and not only 
supplied their own wants, but often sold them to the whiles 
in the vicinitv. 

The dtess of the Indians, consisted of leggins of skin 
wrought with beads and porcupine quills, a calico shirt, a belt 
•f skin ornamented like ttie leggins. and containing his knife, 
tomahawk, and such other conveniences as he chose to employ 
about his person. Over this dress, a blanket was ^j";J^"» 
and the son of the forest with his mocassins on, and his head 



40 

protected by a turban formed from a shawl of the brightest 
colors, and ornamented with feathers, was ready for any 
emergency The dress of the women differed but little from 
what we have described, except that they wore their hair 
long and tied behmd with gay ribbons of all the colors of the 
rainbow. Ornaments were worn by both sexes, including 
necklaces of many strings of beads, bracelets, and ornaments 
for the ancles, formed of brass thimbles, made to jingle lik« 
bells. 

We who have been educated under the glare of civilization, 
and the meridian light of Christianity, may pride ourselves 
upon our lofty position, and in comparing ourselves with our 
Indian brother upon our more exemplary conduct. We 
may think of him, as a debased, dishonest, ungrateful, and 
treacherous being, whom it is no shame to defame, a'.jd no 
sin to destroy, fiut it may moderate our self-glorification to 
know that m his unsophisticated state, before "his untutored 
mind " had learned from white men the use of "fire-water" 
he was hfjuest, temperate, and contented ; chaste, noble- 
spirited, and scrupulously exact in remembering and reward- 
ing a ("avor. or fulfilling a promise. 

From an interesting letter frf)m the Hon. Elisha Ely, of 
Alleiian, 1 am allowed to make the following extracts: — 

'•In tiie year 1836, Ogewa, then the head chief of ihe Otta- 
wa tribe of Indians, exerted himself to have his tribe chris- 
tianized as well as civilized. I was in Detroit with him two 
or three weeks. Gov. Mason, and Henry R. Schoolcraft, Esq*. 
the then Incian Agents, t ok a deep interest and engaged to 
do all in their power to further the views of the old Chief. 
In June, 1S39, quite a number of their families, purchased 
considerable land from the United Siates, and settled in this 
County, and made some little progress in civilization ; but 
their early habits were such, that they did not improve very 
rapidly; and although the Rev. Mr. Smith was with them, 
and paid by the United States, he never from some cause, had 
their confidence, and ihe settlement retrograded. After a 
few years the Hollanders settled near them and eventually 
bought their lands and the improvements they had made. 
They have now all removed to Grand Traverse Bay. They 
were without much improvement in dress and manner of lir- 
ing, when they first came into this vicinity, except Ogewa the 
♦Id chief, who copied in his dress from the whites. Quite 



41 



recently, forty-three, called here with the declaration, a copy 
of which, I enclose to vou. Thev were piincipaliy from 
Grand Traverse Bay, and everv one very decently clad, in 
our costume, not an Indrnn blanket was worn l)y any of (hem. 
The paper I send you, speaks for itself. 1 (lo not know 
where the project originated. Every one of them behaved 
with great propriety and not one of them had been drinkinir 
spirits. They were 'about here three or four days with their 
women and children; and won the admiration of all by their 
good conduct. They informed me ihat several hundred In- 
dians about Lakes Michigan and Superior, were ready tf) join 
them, and sign the instrument which is hsre annexed." 

We the undersigned descendants of the Chippewa and Ottawa tribes of In- 
dians, havings been born in the State of Michigan, and always resided therein — 
being attached to the soil, where the bones of our Fathers are laid — and bein;T 
dosirous of abandoning our own system of laws and government, and of ndopt- 
ing the laws, habits of life, and Government of the white people of the United 
States and of the State of Michigan, that we may enjoy the benefits of civiliza- 
tion and Christianity, and the privile,ges and civi'l rights of citizens and voters: 
do hereby with our Chiefs;, solemnly declare that we yield our Inws and Govern- 
ment up for laws of the United States and of Michijs^an ; that we mean to 
adopt the habits of civilized life, to clear land and cullivate the ?oil, to build 
houses to live in, and to have onr children educated in the habits, customs, lan- 
guage and mode of living of the white men, our neighbors, and that in all things 
wo mean to claim the protaction of the laws of the Gn'srnmont. an i pubmil 
ourselves to the jurisdiction and control of the laws both in civil and criminal 
matters. 

George Shashawonipise 

Peter Wavvangabo 

Paul Shoshaquashe 

Poneit Wouatchenotin 

.Joseph Oshawoshquar 

Louis MatcUikishig 

Joseph Chawegesbgua 

Paul Waukazoo 

Daniel VVedegowish 

James Prickett 

.lames Shashaquase 

John Oshawashquar 



Tabaschapichig 
Ijcwis McSauby 
Joseph Visawagwat 
Kiweiasang 
Joseph Macksanba 
vVilliam Jiewilebigabaw 
Joseph Armiguan 
Francis Macksauba 
Winsor Animiquum 
Pet«r Shoshaguaso 
Paul Nisawaquat 
Francis Wowangobo 
Peter Oshoswoshquar 



George Wcaxho 
William Chingnah 
Mutebe Sakendoninm 
Michael Akibaunzi 
Lewis Akibemose 
William Keshewose 
John Akibemose 
Jos'ph Shashaquashe 
Agent Okinotsgo 
Atoin Match ikisbig 
Peminawa Magateraini 
Joseph Shashaxuase 
Nenoiquar Oshawashquar Monitowe Oshawoshquar 
Wa;-sa Zumby Roberts Apish abe 

Awasekishig Akiwenkjigetos© 



John Oshamoshquar 
Kishigobiaese Akiwendjigstose 

State of Michigan, ? 
Allegan Coimiy. ss: \ On this 18th day of April, in the year of our Lord 

one thousand eiglit hundred and fifty-three, personally came before the under- 
signed, a Notary Public, in and for the county aforesaid, Paul Wakazoo. Lewis 
Macksauba, Tobasciiaapachig, Joseph Visagaj^wat, James Pricket, Chiefs of 
the Ottawa and Chippovva tribes; and Daniel Wedegowish, Wassa Zurnby, 
George Weazho, William Chinguah, Mutebe Salmdoirn, Wichael Akibauzise, 
Lewis Akibauzse, William Hithwasa, John Atermase, Joseph Shashaquatae, 
Agent Okinotsgo, Atin Matchki&hig, Peuawa MaTateatiue, Joseph Sharaqnase, 



42 

AwMifcithig Akiandjitose, Monita Oicawaakqua, Robert Aptskabe, Jos«pfo 
Masksauba, William Beuwitaglawn, Joseph Armiguati', Francis Mac^auba,. 
Wineor Animiquan, Peter Shashagum, Paul Nisawaquit, Francis Waangoba. 
Peter OshawshqUa, John Oehaw^shqne, George Washawanipi, Peter Wawaga- 
ba, Paul Shashaqnashe, Ponit Warnitthenatin, Joseph Ashawashgua, Loui* 
Malhekishy, Joseph Chawigo-kigm, James Shashaqude, Kisbigobanie Akiud- 
jiabe, John Asnawashaques Niniuqua Otbo-hawga. — Who by the oath of Jana«« 
Pricket, who acted as Interperter for them, were made known to me and who 
all severally acknowledged that they hai extcuted the same freely, and for th-s 
piarpotes abore exprMs*d. ' ELISHA £LT, Notary Public^ 



Kalamazoo in 1835 and 1855. 



:MRS. HENRIETTA S. T. TAYLOR, 

Secrtiary Ladies* Library Association, Kal . Michigan. 

My Dear Madam : — I take advantage of my first leisure 
moments from ihe duties of my office to redeem the promise 
I mide you, of writing out for publication soms of my ex- 
psriencQ in tho fiistory and settlement of this lovely " Bur- 
Oak City," — which has risen to perfection and beauty from 
compaiative crudeness and obscurity; and now reposes, 
smilingly, as a queen amid her courtiers, luxuriating in the 
rich and regal charms by which she is surrounded. 

To those of us who came here at an early day in the his- 
tory and settlement of Kalamazoo, the genial influences of 
this hour are most welcome and delightful. Others, who have 
settled within the past few years, cannot understand, in Us 
full force and reality, the saddening power of those silent 
memories of home and kindred that then beset us, " strangers 
in a stranore land " — the sense of utter desolation, and sick- 
ness of the heart, that follows upon the rapid transition from 
the old and loved, into the new and unfamiliar world around ; 
no tritd friend near to rejoice in our prosperity, to comfort 
in affliction, and to Wipe away the falling tear : 

— They who sit calm 

And happy, 'mid the pleasant joys of earth, 
Throag'd with tlie thousand dear delights of Home ; 
The blandishments of Wealth ; the son^ of hop* ; 
And Pleasure's gorc'ous, fc\scinating train ; — 
Know not tho meaning of that word, — Alone I 
They may rejorce, and strike the harp, and dance ; 
And strew th-^ir pathway with the choicest flow'rs ; — 
They k/ioio not ifno to lozap, with t'loso who mourn. 

At least, swM is •; V3 les-.i-noiy I have borrowed from one o( 
my own mauusOript h r.'^; wtiom I strongiy suspect was a 
little hom^'sick a-i,! *,>v -v. it liiai lime! 

Let us con » y " oi' 1835, with the populous 

aad bus7 '4\/i'.K'?t^v 1 we now inhabit. To ow this 



44 

wonderful transformation seems like the creation of some 
fair and fabulous dream. VThen the soul, unfettered by its bond 
ol clay, triumphs in its mastery, and rejoices in the realization 
of hopes more gorgeous and dazzling than were ever unveiled 
to its Vision in the broad and sultry day. 

Many of the pioneers of 1835, and of an earlier date, are 
yet vigorous and active in our midst ; and many more have 
laid by their pilgrim staffs, and well worn sandals, and gone 
down into the "dark valley of the shadow of death." — 
Among these, I recall to memory one, noble and commanding 
in statue, whose snow-white hair, frosted by five and seventy 
winters, fell over a brow on which God had fixed his seal of 
adoption, " to give the world assurance of a man." — He was 
the venerable prototype and sire of sons who have not dis- 
graced their parentage; but who have iivsd on, in respecta- 
bility and usefulfiess, a credit and honor to those who now 
"sweetly sleep in Jesus," and an ornament to the community 
in which they dwell. It is but simple justice to pass the same 
meed of praise upon the surviving family of Gen'l. Burdick, 
one of the earliest proprietors of Kalamazoo, and who ever 
cherished a warm and lively interest in its prosperity and pro- 
gress. To him we are mainly indebted for the preservation 
of our be&utiful Bur-Oaks: and I take both pride and plea- 
sure in bearing this public testimony to the refined taste and 
noble forethought ®f those who, like him, were thus mindful 
of the comfort of those who should come after them ; and 
who have guarded with so constant a care, one of the chief 
characteristics and beauties of this far-famed settlement. — It 
is one of the best evidences of an enlarged and cultivated 
mind, and of a heart moved by the choicest impulses of our 
better nature. We should regard the elegant shade-trees 
about our residences, and streets, with the same delight and 
solicitude that a tender mother watches over the fair beings to 
whom she hath given birth, — who look up to her for nurture 
ard protect on Ircm rude storms and adversities of life, — un- 
til, n atured in strength and beauty, they group themselves, 
lovirgly Jo tehelfer the heme of her declining vears, and*hal- 
low the spot vvhere lier dear form reposes. — I repeat, it was 
a ccmm.endable trait of character ; and one that the busy 
multitude who now walk to and fro beneath their cool and 
ample shade, in the hot and sultry summer, should remember 
with feelings ot sjncere admiraticn and gratitude, — With«.'Ut 



'tioubt, our native Oaks arc one of the most desirable attrac- 
tians and excellencies of Kalamazoo — for vvhicli we are 
justly famed and complimented at home and abroad. Let ui 
cherisli ihem with unabated care. The)' arc nature'* ' choic« 
legion/ to shield us from disease and death ; and are robed 
in a drapery of green and gold more gorgeous and beautiful 
than erer decked the conquering hosts of Napoleon. The}/ 
shall live, when u-e ar« dust ; and their shadows will linger 
peacefully and silently upon our graves, long after the places 
that now know us, and the friends who now love us, know us 
no more forever 1 

I never visit our beautiful Mountain Home of the Dead, 
so calmly overlooking the strife and tumult of th« living, 
without being charmed by the extended and ench»Mting view 
spread out like a map of Eden before me ; and as I retrace 
my steps, and see the funeral train wending its way slowly 
along tiie winding walks and lovely groves, the words of El- 
ric, the Saxon, came to me with peculiar emphasis and 
meaning: 

Here, sorrowing friends, beneath this antique shade, 
Where earliest incense of the virgin morn 
Ascends the smihng heav'ns — here let us pause 
Great nature hath a balm for ev'ry wound : 
Our bicedinor hearts, pierc'd to the core by grief. 
May rnediciuo their torn and trembling strings 
On the dear boaom of her boundless love. 

Associated with Gen'i Burdick in the proprietorship of 
Kalamazoo, were the late Thomas C. Sheldon and Lucius 
Lvo.'t ; the former, Receiver of Public Moneys here duiing 
the Land Office times of 1835, 1S36 and 1837, (in connection 
with Major Edwards, the Jiejlsirar.) and the latter, one of 
the Hrst ^Senators who represented Michigan in the INational 
Legislature, and who also subsequently held the re?p3n.sibe 
nfhce oflSurveyor General But whatever honor may br ac- 
corded to tlie-e gentlemen, '* Uncle Titus " Bronson and 
his good wifti '* AuiJiT Sally " Bronson, were undoubtedly 
the original locau>rs and proprietors of this famous foresi city, 
;i[id, hard in tt.eir wake, came Nat Harrison and Ci i.o ,'ell ; 
the first ydeped -'Uncle," and tlie last, '' Squire." — I beliere 
Mr. Harrison is nuw dead; but ilio Hon. Mr. Lovell is still 
living, at Ionia, in this State, clever and large and lively as 
' tver, a good ci'Jzcn and genl'eman of note — not nolts I He's 



46 

a ' hard money man,' and * plumb on the square ! * — Speaker 
of tlie House, at the late session of our State Legislature. — 
May he live long and his shadow never be less. 

Tiie Ladies of the Library Association may remember that 
I had the honor of toasting him, at their late " Quarter Century 
Celebration," nnd that he " turned up hrown /" His responss, 
like Ex-Governor Ransom's, was replete with incidents and ac- 
cidents of pioneer life — particularly his narration of the 
wagon trip of the Governor and family, from Detroit to Kala- 
mazoo. On reflection, I am not positive whether it was Mr. 
Lovell or the Governer himself who told the story : but I re- 
member that there was a ' trip of the tongue,' at the time, that 
set a number of us near the speaker, into a hearty laugh. 

The late Col. Huston and Amos Brownson, were also inti - 
mately connected with the early history and settlement, and 
after prosperity of this place. I remember them as early ai 
1835 and 1336, as the principal "Business Firms." Mr, and 
Mrs. Brownson (the latter, then Miss Case.) were among th« 
first acquaintances I made, out of Major Edwards' immediate 
family ; and some of my happiest moments (always saving and 
excepting my courting ones ! ) have been passed in their com- 
pany. 

It requires an eifort, at this late day, to recall the names of 
all our early settlers of 1835 and 1836 : but as I desire, so far 
as in my power, to place them on record, I subjoin the follow- 
ing alphabetical Hst, \n. this list are included a number of 
transient persons who came and left in 1835 and 1836: for 
we had but a few resident families here in 1835. To avoid 
personality and partiality, 1 begin v^'ith myself, — the poetical, 
prosy, perennial, and pungent. Major Red Pepper! — then 
follows of course, under A., my Father and Mother, Brothers 
and Sisters, Uncles and Aunts, Nephews and Nieces, Cousin* 
and dozens, from the first to the last generation. — Amen inclu- 
sive ! — then : 

Doctor Abbott, and wife and daughter, Ben Jones and family 

Moses Austin and family, David G. Kendall 

Ross AUard Israel Kellogg, of the Kalamazoo Ho-m* 

Hiram Arnold and family Levi Krause 

Gen'l Burdick " •' Amos Knerr 

Deacon Barrows " '* Ilusso Kiog 

Squire Belcher " •* Mr. Liephart, the old ' Indian Trader.* 

Ira Burdick " " Horatio Lawrance Ij^q^qCk j ^itr 

Frederick Booher '• " Richard Lawrance 5 ' * • 

Doctor Barritt '* '* Edmund LaGrave 

Warr«n Burrill *' " Hiram D. Lov«land 



47- 



Amos Brownson and wif« 
Henry Booher •* " 
William G. Butler, ' early settler ' 
William Boolier 
Samuel W. iJryan 
Ira Bird 
William Birch 

Alexander Buell and brother Austin 
Uncle Titus" and •' Aunt Sally,' 



Cyrus Lovell and famiJy 
Daniel Lathrop and wife 
Joseph Miiler jr. 
Clement March 
Robert Mcintosh, Merchant; 

Dop'ty P. M. under Doct. Abbott ! Ac. 
O C. McCracken 

Jay R. Monro*^ & Iloiatie N, Monroe 
L. H. Moore, alias " LittU Moort; " 



the original proprietor* of Bronson, hereto- •" contradiitiDction of 

fore mentioned, Henry Mower, 

Chauncey Burrell Big Land Looker, Hunter, «to. 

Doctor Beardsley Gen'l Isaac Moffatt 

Philander Bishop Mr. Meaohnm, Tailor, 

Col. John E. Bracket! worked for L. R. Davis 

E. R Ball birneon jVewman 

N. a". Balch Lot M. North, 

Doctor Browninff, Constable, aruJ Chief Baker nf th. Staff ^c 

Druggist ; " Richard the 3rd ! " &c., J^'^^^"" Northrop and family 

O. S. Case ^^Pt- Geurp;e A. O'Brien and family 

"Typo ;" now of the S'^afeJoMrTza?, Lansing, Richard O'Brien and wife 
Horace H. Comstock and family Hiram Owen 

who, although hailing from " Comstock Moses O'Brien 

^uarierT^"^^ *'"' "" business place and bead Zephamiah Piatt and family 

MoirCooper, nephew of the Novelist SnrvPvnfp'M^-K"''' ^'^^ r a a i. 
^ ^ ourveyor rettibone, now of Ann Areor 



Anthony Cooley and family 

William Carley " " 

James Coleman " " 

Lewis A. Crane " '* 

Roswell Crane " '* 

Geo. Thos. Clark and wife, 
her Parents and their family, 

A. & D. Cahill 

Alexander Cameron 

Almirin Lake Cotton, 
He and Wm. Gr. Butler, were the flrpt of t^.0J](JJJ-^„JJJ -r ,„„ 
oarly settlers, „ 

Walter Clark ^ 

Ami Carpenter and wife 

Lewis R. Davis 



" Bank " Porter and family, now of Det 

Johnson Patrick and familv 

Mrs Poller, (widow of Do'ct. Porter 

and her sons, Ked and Jim 
John Parker 

A. T. Preuty and family 
Peacon Porter and wife' 
Uncle James Parker and family 
Judge Ransom and family, 

his Parents and Brothers 

honorable arrd 
now 
Henry M Rice ) --—v--" "»*'"«« <>«>« 
R. J. Rosecrantz 



hirothers 

^ Both in honorab 
r official positions, 
r married, and hailin 
) Minnesota, 



David S. Dille and family Artemas W. Richardsoa 

Joseph B. Daniels, and his brother, T J.'^alter Russell 
Oliver Davenport and Wife Heniy Reynolds and family 

William G. Dewing, and brother Fred, ^'fl Recollet (" Reckly ") 
Ebenezer Durkee and familv Frendi Trader 

Major Abraham Edwards and family "°»: C^^^" ^- ^^"^^^ ^°^ ^'^« 
Renselaer Evils and family Wilimm Stuart 

Asa Fitch and family Jt"'",'"'' ^^^ ^i'®''^?'' 

George A. Filch, ^ heodore P. bheldon and family 

now Ed. a*nd Pii^'isher of Mich. TeUffraph I^octor Slarkw^ealher •• 



Francis Fitts and wife 
Nathaniel Foster and family, 

now of Otsego, Allegan Co., Mich. 
Daniel Fisher 
Ethan French 
Henry Gilbert and family 
Nelson Gibbs " •• 
Andrew B. Gray •* '• 
Silas Grejj •• »• 



Erastus Smith 
Rodney Seymour '* •• 

Nathan L. 'Stout •* " 

Caleb Sherman, 

now doing busincM for " Unci* Bam,' 

New Jleiico 
David Sergeant 
Albert Saxon, 

the man who went m/ltr mn»th$r man, 

•rp«r cmme back / 



48 

All«n Goodridgc and family. Silas Trowbridre 

now DeiVty Cora'r State Land Offlee L^j^.e^ H. Trask and famiir 

JohnB.GaUean Lyman Tutile 

dodnev Gibson, t •' ^p i „ 

n,.w Dep'ty 3ec'ty of State, Lane-.nj, ^f.^^^^ T^X '^'^ , 

Dwiffht C. Grimes f^'^am Underwood, 

James Green, , " ^^^f.*^^^' ^'''^'\ of fal^mazoo." 

now of the firm of Stuart & Green, Jf ^^<; ^iCKery and Wife 

John H. liavs and family Stephen Vickery and wife 

Benjamin Harrison and familv Lawrence \ anDeVValker, 

Deacon Hvdenburk " "' p"l';^' ^/ «• Receiver of Public Mon.y. 

a ■ FT '. . , ,, ,. rhdo Vradenbursfh 

Squire Hubrjard " " ait j a \kt-u- 

Nat Harrison " " Alfred A. Wdhams 

T?i:oko TT^'n 4» .i Isaac W. Willard 

,1 rr 1 J r -1 ^ t' 7 rj- Jndffe D. li. vVebster and famuT 

L Hawlev and familv. of Artt. iioii5«, -iir-,? tt -t*/ i i ., .» ' 

Ccl. H. B'. Huston and family n W^"" 

A. G. Hammond aad wife ' Vi c.^"\ w jj u. 

1 u xj ( > • ,,T J Mrs. Sarah Weaver and daughter 

Joseph HutcauiK, vvite and son ^ -ttt t.t- , *» 

Sheriff of Kal. Co , Merch.int &c. 9'^,'''^L^'\ ^uislow 

Azro Healy J«hn VVmslow 

Volnev Hascall. Rollin Wood, Justice of the Peace &c, 

now Editor and Publisher of £aZ. Gczef/ff, William E. White 
Nath'l Holman and wife, moth'r, broth'rJasper Wood 
Chas. Herrington, William Wingert, Gunsmith, 

then at work fur Buell & Brother now of Detroit. 

Isaac N. Janes; Rev Cj-lus Woodbury and family. 

Parson W. was the first settled Presbyterian Clergyman in Kalamazoo ; and the first " fin- 
nation party " I ever attended was at his house — in the winter, I think, of 1835. — And this 
brintjs ino to X, Y, Z. 

1 do not pretend that liie foregoing list is perfect, for in the 
lapse of years, and drawn up, as it has been, from memory, 
it would be singular if it were; but 1 present it as a tolerably 
accurate register of those living, or hailin^r from here m 1835 
and 1836, within what is now, the corporate limits of Kalamazoo > 
Wnat a change from those times to the present ! when the 
Main Street of our village, from the river up to the Tremont 
House, was almost free of dwellings ; and beyond that station, 
and around in all directions, the native bur-oaks bloomed in 
primeval beauty. Then it was a common sight to see bands 
of roving Indians, and to hear the howl of the wolf — then 
game was plenty, and the fleet deer bounded merrily over 
green pastures where- nozi* stand thickly together the pleasant 
habitations of the comfortable housekeeper, and the more pre- 
tentious mansions of the rich. Those were the good old 
"land-office times," when Speculators went about with "ple- 
thoric purses and empty stomachs, and paid two shilhngs for a 
"smell of something good to eat !" and for the privilege of 
leaning against a door post to sleep, or bunking on the old 
Kalamazoo House floor ! — The glorious days of paper cities, 
with " desirable water lots ! " — when " Port Sheldon " flour- 
khed, and the proprietors flourished over the port ! — when a 



49 

fraction entered for $50 at the Land Office, in the morning, 
told for 5,000 at night ! — When everybody was •* crazy for 
land," and felt rich, and wanted to be crazier and richer ! — 
When pork was 820 a barrel, and too poor at that to *• worry 
its way down !" — When pies and gingerbrea d were divided 
into " Qaai ter Sections," and sold for a " short shilling a bite ! *' 
When a man was afraid to be seen using a tooth-pick, after 
dinner, for fear of being mobbed and murdered for the des- 
sert ! — in short, when everything and everybody was turned 
*' topsy-turvy," and an overwhelming torrent of speculation 
deluged the laad. But over these " troubled elements," there 
has come a calm. A glittering bow of promise has long 
since spanned the dark and threatening clouds — revealing 
by its curve of glory, a " new heavens and a new earth." Old 
things are done away, and the bright sunlight of prosperity 
and happiness is now shining upon all. The effect of the la- 
bors of those who survived this perilous period, manifested 
itself m an mcreased regard for individual probity and useful- 
ness, and in sounder and maturer action for the public good. 
Inordinate selfishness and love of gain, were purified and con- 
trolled by the dictates of a better humanity — or, at all 
events, the more glaring inconsistency and development, 
were hid under a cloak that covered the " multitude of sins," 
The baser passians were curbed— held in subjection by the 
strong arm of the law, and that enlightened and efficient 
public sentiment, which sooner or later approves or condemns 
ihe conduct of all. 

Every added year has carried forward the good work of 
reform, and Kalamazoo, at this auspicious hour, may truly be 
said to be luxuriating in beauty and plenty, amid her native 
.vales, like some fair virgin decked with i?owers. And just 
here, I am reminded to add a word or two in memory of the 
beautiful and novel appearance of our Prairies, as they look- 
ed to me some twenty years or more ago. — I can never for- 
get the vivid impressionmade npon my mind (fresh as I then 
was from city scenes and life,) the first time 1 looked upon a 
prairie in full bloom — I had mounted my horse for an afternoon 
ride, and heading westward from our village, gave my favor- 
ite running nag Lightfoot free rein until I drew up suddenly 
on the brow of the hill near •* Uncle Parker's," on Grani> 
Prairie ; — for it seemed to me almost like sacrilege, to crush 
livith my horse's hoofs the lovely and delicate fairy children 
7* 



50 

of the woods and fields, by which I was surrounded. Be- 
aeath, about, and beyond me, as far as the eye could reach, 
was spread out, in undulating elegance, an emerald carpet of 
[lature's choicest fabric, inlaid profusely with flowers of erery 
imaginable variety of name and tint — gorgeous and fascina- 
ting as the most brilliant hues of the rainbow. — Horse and 
rider were alike captivated : for my pet racer, with eye and 
aostnl wide open, literally rfran^ in, with me. the rich beauty 
and odor of that charming scene. — Never can 1 forget that 
day. There I sat, and gazed delightedly, wholly unconscious 
of the lapse of time, until the shadows of evening, gathering 
thickly over the landscape, admonished me of the " witching 
hour," on love's dial, when a fairer " native flower" than any 
I had then and there seen, would bloom for me alone I 

So, what time the moon. 



Her silver crescent iii the orient shone, 
Lightfool and 1, in happy mood, hie'd home I 

[An accomplished and genial clerical critic at my elbow » 
as 1 am concluding this add\iiona,[ prairie item suggests sky'd 
for " hied," in the above couplet! — The indulgent reader can 
therefore adopt my friend the Rev. E. B. Palmer's emenda- 
tion, or the original text, as saemeth best, "all things con- 
sidered ! "] 

A few words now, before bringing this hasty article to a 
close, in memory of the old U. S. Land Office, and of those 
with whom I was associated in 1835 and 1838. 

jMajor Abraham Edwards (then Rei/ister, and for several 
years subsequently,) kept the Office in a building immediately 
in the rear of O. Davenport's large frame house now standing, 
on the corner of Main and Edwards* streets. At that time, 
with the exception of the Land Oflice, it was all an open lot. 
It was there that 1 first commenced "scribbling" as a Clerk, 
soon after, the Major removed to the Office I now occupy, and 
in which I have the honor to " flourish " as Register. Here 
most of the Government lands, now constituting the Home- 
steads and improved farms of the country, were sold at t^n 
shillings an acre ^ including the location of the *' site " of the 
present "City of Kalamazoo." The curious observer of the 
antique, may at this day see specimens of the pencilings of the 
*' original locators,'* all over the outside of the old Office, at 
well as cuttings by Yankee ** blades 1 " In fact, the old Major, 
at one time dunng a "great land rush," to save his picket 



SI 

fence and other property, from utter destruction, bought a 
load of shingles for the express use and benefit of the crowd, 
and had proclamation made, that every man might help him- 
self, gratis, and whittle away to his heart's content! After 
that, every other person you passed, betvfeen this and tb* 
Receiver's, on both sides of the road, at the taverns, on the cor- 
ners, and every where else, had a knife and shingle in hand, 
and Wc'is cutting away for dear life! Any ''knowing one" 
r.ould tell, by the way a man •* whittled," what progress he 
was making m a trade. The skirmishing and feeling-process, 
was a bold and rapid succession of cuts, outward, but ab the 
bargain progressed to a happy close, the knife blade was in- 
clined imvnrd, — the parings became nicer and closer, and the 
trade and shingle ended in the sharpest kind of a point, lo 
the buyer who was '• sold ! " 

The force in the Regisler's Office, in 1835 and 1836, con- 
sisted of Major Edwards and his sons, Alexander and 
"^CoL. Tom," Mr. John B. Guiteau, my brothers, S. Yorke 
and Richard, Mr. Alfred A. Williams, Ira Burdick, the 
^' Squire," Captain George A. O'Brien, A. VV. Richardson. 
and myself besides the occasional help in the office, of Mr. 
Thos. C. Sheldon' ^the Receiver J. M; — Messrs, T. P. 
Sheldon, Geo. Thos. Clark, and Rodney Gibson. The 
rush of business was so great in those days, that extra clerks 
h&d often to be called in to register the Applications, Plats, 
'Adc, and bring up our Returns for Washington : and mil- 
lions of dollars from this Office alone, poured into the Treas- 
ury of the United States. 

In those days of " wild-cat" and " red-dog" inflated paper 
tiurrency, everybody was a Croesus, at least in feeling. Sper- 
ulation and pecalaiion were the twin charlatans and rulers of 
the hour. Men of judgment and honesty, who had therefore 
kept unimpaired their integrity, joined in the general scramble 
after riches, and yielded, finally, to the fascinating rustle of 
bank-paper, and the righteous ring of the *' almighty dollar T' 

The " Specie Circular,'* killed the bastard progeny of irre- 
sponsible Bankers, while the ink upon their lying " piomises 
lo pay " was yet moist on the fair faces of their treacherous 
issue, and the sober second thought of the people, came at 
l list, hke rain upon the dry and barren earth, lo refreih the 
wa«te places, and make the desert and solitary wilderness 
bloom and blossom like the rose. 



52 

One of the principal means, from first to last, in the progress 
of refoi'm and of social and intellectual advancement, here 
and elsewhere, was unquestionably the introduction and faith- 
ful application of the Printing Press ; that grand and irre- 
sistable lever for raising the masses, and moving the very 
foundations of the mental and moral world. Mr. HEiHRY 
Gilbert, may with propriety be called, the founder and 
father of the public press of Western Michigan. No man 
connected with it, has seen harder service, met with a great- 
er variety of viscissitudes and experiences, had 'Mower 
downs," or " higher ups I " For some years past, he has been 
out, as an Editor and Printer, and is now -' set up in capitals" 
as one of our most obliging and popular " Merchant Princes." 
Messrs. Hascall and Fitch, from their respective tripods 
and platforms, now sit in Henry's scat, and di&pense the 
pure milk of letters and logic (adulterated, occasionally, with 
ii little water)) to their indulgent frien<ls and subscribers. 
They have both grown up withm my knowledge o^ their 
school-boy days ; and I record it here with a feeling ol the 
sincerest pride and pleasure, that as artiiicers of their own 
reputations and fortunes, they merit the confidence and sup- 
port so generously awarded them by the good people of 
Kalamazoo. 

We have now reached an epoch in our history, of great 
moment to us, and to those who shall come after us. Print- 
ing Offices, School Houses, Churches, Theological Institutions, 
and Colleges; Courts of Law, Banks, and Shaving Shops; 
Medical Dispensaries ard Drug Stores; busy marts of Com- 
merce and Merchandise ; Factories and places for all me- 
chanical and industrial pursuits ; Literary, Benevolent, and 
Sewing Societies ; — in short, a little of everything in general^ 
and too much of some things in particular, are crowding upoB 
each other, in rapid succession, to ihe manifest horror of iazy^ 
people, and the total extinction of men and women of " one 
ideal" 

Finally, may we all act well our several parts in the great 
theatre of life, so that, as its mysterious drama is ending, Vf& 
shall be able to look up joyfully, and exclaim : 

The sky is full 

Of the Btarr'd banners of the heavenly hostj 
Dependent from Us glorious battlements, 
To lure us from these b&nicrs of «arth.— . 



53 

Othat we might o'er}eap them, al a bound ; 
And Btand. complete, at last, a Deathless Man,— 
Crown'd with immortal bays, and thron'd in Light ; 

Very llespeclfully Yours, 

T. S. AtLEE, 
U. S. Land Office, Kalamazoo, Mich. 



Earls^ fCemini^cences. 



MRS. HENRIETTA S. T. TAYLOtl. 

J>EAR Madam : — As you desired, I have thrown together,- 
in the following pajies, some remennbrances of the early set- 
tlement of Kalamazoo, and its vicinity. They are very 
crudely and imperfectly presented, and I fear will add but 
little to the interest of vour proposed work. 

It was on the 22d day of June, 1831, that our family first 
saw the spot marked out for their home in the wilds of Michi- 
gan. This was on ''Genesee Prairie," four miles south- 
west of Kalamazoo Village, whither my father, in company 
with Anthony Cooley and Erastuv Smith, had immigrated and 
located their claims the fall before — 1 ihink. in October, 1830. 
They gave the prairie the name it bears in honor of Genesee 
County, N. Y., from whence they had all removed. On our 
arrival, in June, we found besides those above named, three or 
four families, which had preceded us, and pitched their 
** Squatter" tents on various parts of the Prairie. These 
were Enoch Harris, a colored man, and his family, a Mr. 
Wild and family, a Mr. Hunt and family, and a Mr. Stillwell 
and family ; the former two of winch still remain. The sur- 
rounding country was wild and undisturbed as it had existed, 
probably, for long centuries before. The numerous bands of 
Indians and their deeply trodden trails whicli traversed the 
prairies and forests, at this time, in all directions, abated noth« 
ing from tlie primeval freshness of the surrounding scenery. 
God and Nature re\gncd alone, and civilized man had not yet 
been permitted to mar the holy quiet and deep solemnity, 
whjch brooded over the beautiful lakes and valleys, the green 
prairies and deep forests, that lay so tranquilly around U3. It 
iia« seemed tome that there was a nearer communion with 
the Creative Spirit of the Universe in those early days, than 
ha« been experienced since the necessities or cupidity of man 
transformed the wilderness into the fruitful field. 

Among the first things that attracted attention about our 
homestead, was a large circle amid % grove of trees, vb«re 



55 

the earth was trodden down much like the trails which passed 
near it. This we learned was a spot upon which the Indians 
had been accustomed to celebrate their festivities ; and if re- 
port was true, sometimes to practice the war dances of their 
tribe. This, then, was the origin of the mysterious circle. — 
In another spot on my father's farm an artificial mound was 
discovered, about a rod in diameter at its bass, and some four 
or five feet high. Around this there was a regularly laid out 
garden, the beds still stanJmg as distinctly marked, and as 
regular in their order, and arraiigemant, apparently, as when 
they were first wrought out by the hands of the unknown 
workmen. And upon this mound, and in the midst of some 
of these beds, were growing large and aged trees, showing 
that the mysterious gardens must have had their origin in far 
back ages. Probably they were the work of the same people 
whose tumuli, and whose instruments of war and domestic use, 
are found scattered in various places lhroaghi)ut the entire 
west. 

Another object of interest engaged our attention almost the 
first day of our arrival. It was reported that upon Grand 
Prairie two miles north of us, there were inexhaustible fields 
of strawbernes, then in the very zenith of their glory. We 
went. The half was not told. Snm deserted corn fields, 
left by the Indians, a year or two before, had grown over 
with rank and luxuriant strawberry vines, which seemed to 
be indigenous to the soil. These at this time, were literally 
loaded with fruit, and the little hillocks where the corn had 
stood, for acres and acres, gleamed red in the sun, as though 
each might be a honafiii heap of the luscious berries, already 
plucked and placed there. A more interesting sight it is dif- 
ficult to conceive of; and the pioneers did uot fail to make 
themselves practically acquainted with these spontaneous gifts 
of the deserted corn fields. 

About this time some excitement occurred in consequence 
of a murder that had been committed upon an Indian by one 
of the tribe, over west of Grand Prairie. The criminal had 
been just tried and condemned, and permission granted hira 
to visit his friends and relatives for the last lime previous to 
his execution. No bail was required in Indian jurisprudence 
He had given his word to return on the appointed day, and 
that was deemed sufficient by the Chief. The questioe 
among the white settlers was—" Will the condemned raan 



56 

keep fjis word t " Varic^iis were the opinions ; and not » 
little cariosity was felt throughout the community as the stated 
time drew near. The day at length came ; and with it came 
the condemned criminal, punctual to the hour. The sentence 
'of death was immediately carried into execution ; and his 
body was placed sitting upright, in the midst of a rude struc- 
ture of logs, where it remained, and was visited by the set- 
tlers of the surrounding country for many months afterward. 
His pipe and food were placud by his side, in order, as I sup- 
pose, to make his journey *'to the undiscovered country '' a? 
tolerable as possible. But no one could discover that he ever 
condescended to make use of them. 

Early m the spring of the next year, 1832, a new and more 
formidable cause of excitement occurred, which, for a time 
created a good deal of agitation and alarm among the settlers. 
!t was reported that Blxck Hawk, with a large body of his 
warriors, was m.irching directly for our settlements, and there 
was imminent danger that all the people would be massacred. 
At once a draft was made upon all the male inhabitants lia- 
ble to military service, and general muster was to take place 
upon Prairie Ronde, where means for resistance and protec- 
tion were to be devised, and as far as possible, carried out. 
Well do I remember with what feeling I saw my father de- 
part, and how painful was the suspense in the family, until he 
returned, which he did in two or three days, it havirg been 
ascertained that the repori was exaggerated and ihe danger, 
at least, at that particular time, was not threatening. The 
community became tranquilized, and during the summer 
the news was received that General Atkinson had had a de- 
cisive engagement with the Indian forces, and had disastrous- 
ly routed them, taking Black Hawk, his son, and many war- 
riors prisoners. This at once restored perfect quiet to our 
settlement ; and none were now afraid to traverse the coun- 
try again at will. 

The game of the country at this time, was exceedingly 
plentiful. Deer, bears and wolves, were seen in all direc- 
tions by the settlers, and many were killed, the two former 
furnishing a considerable portion of the food in some of the 
families. Wolves, especially, were everywhere, and their 
dismal howl was almost suie to be heard as soon as night set 
in. And they were possessed of a most audacious temerity 
ioo — I well remember upon a certain occasion when one 



*7 

came at midday, into our door yard and seized a sheep befor^^ 
the face and eyes of several of the family, and would hare 
made short work with the timid animal, had not my father 
interfered to rescue it. And, again, one came just before 
night-fall, within two rods of the door, and laid hold of a 
small pig, the cries of which soon brought its long-legged, 
lantern-jawed, ferocious maternal ancestor to the rescue, 
when his lupine majesty saw fit to beat a hasty retreat, with 
the injured mother at his heels ; and such a race we venture 
to say, was never seen on Genesee Prairie before or since, — 
A small dog, we had, would sometimes venture, in the nighh 
to crawl out through a hole in the wall of the log house, left 
for his exit and entrance, and bark, when he scented the near 
approach of a wolf; and not unfrequently was he driven 
hurriedly in, by the swift approach of the wild beast to attack 
him ; when the mutual growling was anything but pleasant 
music to the ears of the family. 

It seems to me but yesterday, (although it is twenty-four 
years since,) that I first visited the '* county seat," as the little 
village was then usually called by the settlers m the surround- 
ing country. I was a mere boy then, and with a boy's curi- 
osity, noted the various things of interest in the infant town. 
At the foot of Main Street, on the bank of the river, at this 
time, was a cabin, occupied by Nathan Harrison, who had 
estabhshed a ferry there, consisting of a canoe or two, and a 
large skiflf, with which to accommodate the immigrants and 
settlers who desired to cross the river. " Uncle Nate" was 
known the country through, for he was a great hunter, and 
foremost at all shooting matches, and hunting parties. He 
was, however, one of those wandering pioneer spirits that 
could not long brook the advances of civilization ; and he 
soon sought a new home, where the sound of the axe and the 
hammer had not yet disturbed the peaceful repose of nature. 
The day I visited the ferry the west shore of the river for 
some distance up and down, was lined with the beautiful 
birchen canoes of a company of Indians, wh» had come, 
bringing maple sugar, venison and peltries to trade with the 
whites, they generally desiring in exchange, whiskey, flour, or 
some gaudy articles of dress. For many years after, this was 
a favorite resort of the natives for purposes of barter; but 
alas ! the face of the red man is now rarely seen here, and 
sooti will be ««en no more forever. About a mile below this 
8* 



58 

place, on the east bank of the river^ was an old French tm-* 
ding post, kept by a half breed by the name of Liephart, 
where the earlier settlers found very scant supplies of dry 
goods an'i groceries ; but scant and dear as they ^\ere, they 
suppliefl a want which would otherwise have been severely 
felt by ihc pioneers. But at the period of which I am now 
speaking, there appeared an individual among the little band 
of villagers, who was destined not only to eclipse the French 
trading post in the way of supjiljing the necessities of the 
settlers, but whose subsequent career was to have an impor- 
tant bearing upon the growth and prosperity of the place. 
He was a tall, spare, rather eccentric Yankee, with a some- 
what military air, and a very ?3072cAa/awr carriage and mode 
of speech. Without further circumlocution, it was Col. 
HosEA B. Huston, who came at that early day with a stock 
of merchandize adapted to the wants ot the settlenent, and 
put up a hastily constructed store, on the coiner of Main and 
Rose Streets, being the front part of the building which yet 
remains there. At the time of my first visit " to town," above 
alluded to, this little mart of the Col. was just opened, gnd 
my boyish curiosity was highly gratified with the hour or two's 
experience 1 then had there. It was the place of resort for 
the townsmen, who were fond of meeting there, and "talking 
over matters." Here it was that I first saw Titus Bronson — 
the strange, lank, half crazy, eccentric founder of the village, 
known the country over by his then usual cognomen — " Po« 
tato Bronson " — a name given him on account of the devo- 
tion with which he cultivated a large patch of potatoes, upon 
Prairie Ronde, the first year of his arrival. Here, too, it was 
that I first saw Cyrus Lovell — otherwise " Squire Lovell " — 
celebrated for the unerring certainty with which he would 
despatch any luckless fly that might incontinently light upon 
his person. At the very time of which I speak, it was my 
privilege to witness the terrible skill of the " Squire " upon 
more than thirty •ccasions. 

But I must hurry to a close with these trivial reminiscences, 
lest I abuse the patience of the reader and mar the object for 
which they were intended. 

In October 1835, I became an apprentice to Gilbert & 
Chandler, at the printing business, they having a sh«rt time 
previous commenced publishing a newspaper called the 
" Michigan Statesman" shortly after, the " Kalamazoo Ga- 



59 

teiic.^ In a few weeks, h(iwever, Mr. Chandler retired from 
the firm, and Mr. Gilbert became sole proprietor, and and so 
remained until 1840, when he sold to E. D. Burr, who after 
conducting the establishment for a few months, surrendered it 
to Mr. Gilbert, who, part of the time alone, and part of ihe 
time in company Avith others, continued to carry on the busi- 
ness, until 1845, when the present proprietor purchased the 
office, with nothing but his notes, and in three months, wa« 
obliged to sell, which he did to J. W. Breese, Esq., who after 
nine months trial, was glad to resell it btck to myself since 
which time — May 1, 1846 — it has been constantly under 
my control. It may be, that at some future time 1 may wnle 
a brief history of the early vicissitudes of the Gazette Of- 
fice ; but it would hardly be proper here, after the large space 
I have already occupied. 1 have merely given the above 
facts, that the early history of the press may not be entirely 
lost, should no fuller statement be hereafter made. 

1 append here, a few imperfect lines, written by me several 
years ago, embodying a legendary tale of the Indians, which 
en ay be true or false ; but as the incidents are said to have 
occurred in this vicinity, the trifle may not be wholly without 
interest. 



A NIGHT BATTLE SCENE ON THE KALAMAZOO, 
AN ihdian legend. 

On the bank of the river, about a mile below this place, is 
pointed out a spot which is said to have been the scene of a 
battle fought near the middle of the last century, between the 
Sioux and Ottawa Indians. According to the tradition among 
the Indians, these tribes, after many years of feud and strife 
met on the spot above mentioned, with all their warriors, to 
make a final decision of their difficulties. It seems that Wa- 
cousta, the Chief of the Ottawas, had formed a plan of attack 
by night, in order that he might come upon the enemy una- 
wares, and thus, taking them in an unprepared state, might 
more easily and more securely accomplish his purpose. But 
the enemy learned the design through his own son, who cher- 
ishing an affection for the daughter of the Sioux Chief, vea- 
turtd to the tent of her father on the night of the intended 
massacre and privately warned the maiden of her danger, 



€0 

and besought her to stek safety in immediate flight. But she 
considering her duty to her people and her kindred para- 
mount to the affection of a lover, instantly gave the alarm . 
The Sioux warriors being thus put on their guard, silently 
awaited the approach of the enemy ; who advancing secretly 
and cautiously within a short distance of the Sioux tents, 
rushed on to their work with the soul -chilling war-whoop. 
But the enemy, forewarned, were prepared to receiv* them, 
which so completely surprised the Ottawas, that they were 
compelled to retreat on the first onset ; but being rallied by 
their Chief, they returned to the contest and after a long and 
bUody struggle, succeeded in defeating the Sioux ; losing 
however, their Chieftain — a warrior deserving the first ran' 
^moag the Indian heroes : 

The night wind sighed, faintly, its dirge through the treei, 
The cry of the owlet wai borne on the breeze — 
And the scream of the eagle, in accents so fell. 
Intermingled its notes with the wild panther's yell. 
Darkly the storm-cloud was lowering around. 
Enshrouding all nature in darkness profound. 
More dreadful that hour, more dismal that gloom 
Than the soul-chilling horror that reigns at the tomb. 
But behold ! fee, the watch-fire is kindled afar ; 
Wacousta has lighted the beaoon of war ! 
And wo© te the Sioux if the darkness of night 
Shall find him in slumber, unarmed for the fight ! 
For deep is the ire of the Ottawa Chief 
When the hatchet is raised in revenge for his grief ; 
And deadly his vengeance his victim shall feel 
When the wrongs of Wacousta shall sharper the steel : 

Ah 1 where is the Sioux when the death-fire burns brifht f 
Sees he not from the hill the red glare of its light f 
And where is the Chief, when the enemy nigh. 
Shall rush to the carnage with the dread battle cry ? 

But, hark ! there's a wail of deep grief on the air, 
In the accents of woe break* that cry of despair. 

gay why on the breeze coraefe that voice of lament. 

In the frenzy of anguish, from the dark Sioux tent ? 

Ah, list! — 'ti» Wahcondah who entreats in that prayer— 

'WACeusta, thy son is the suppUant there ; 

For oft he hatii sworn to the bright Sioux maid 

Tb« faith of the warrior, which but death shall iavidt. 



61 

Ht comes to entreat that from danger tfar, 

Tke maiden will ily from the temptst of war. 

Bit true to her eenntry when danger is near. 

She heeds not the warnings of puril or fear ; 

But quick through the camp of the slumbering Sioux, 

On the Toice of the maiden the dread signal fiew. 

How sudden the change af the sleeper to life ! 
Of the warrior at rest to the warrior for strife ! 
As if earth from its bosom had yielded its clay 
All armed for the conflict in battle array. 
Deep silence reigns there 'mid that dark warrior band, 
All steadfast and firm with their armor they stand. 

But, hark ! oh the air breaks the Ottawa's yell. 
More fierce than the shrieks of the demons of hell. 
Like fiends of despair they come down on the foe ; 
Destruction and Death follow fast where they go, 
But, see ! the bold Sioux receive the dread shock- 
All bravely they stand as the firm mountain rock. 

Lo ! carnage stalks forth on that red battle field ; 
For sooner the warrior meets death than to yield. 
Ah ! dire is the fight whea the brare meets the brave ; 
And rich then the harvest that cumbers the grave. 

But hark ! there is triumph breaks forth in thai yell, 
For deadly the Sioux' red tomahawks tell : — 
The Ottawa shrinks from that charge ef the foe, 
For the spirit of death is abroad in each blow. 
They turn— but the form ot Wacousta stands forth. 
And darker his frown than the clouds of the North ; 
More fiercely his yell breaks alOud on the air 
Than the cries of the Furies urged on by despair. 
******* 

*Tis done I for the Sioux has fled far away ; 
N© longer he urges the deadly affray : 
But a tear dims the eye of the Ottawa brave — 
Their Chieftain sleeps cold in the warrior's red grave, 
Wacousta ! Wacotista I O, long will thy name 
Stand brightly, the first on the pages of fame. 
Thy spirit has gone to the far father land, 
To meet with the manes of thy bright kindred bacd. 
May the waves in sad cadence thy requiem roll. 
While the soft, gentle zephyrs waft praise to thy moI. 
****•*♦ 



62 

A mound mark« the Bp*t wher^ the Chieft&in rdpetes. 
And over his tomb blooms a bed of wild roses. 

There are other traditions of an interesting character con- 
laected with our locality, which, could they be collected and 
preserved, might be used in some future work of local his- 
tory to great advantage ; but it would swell this article to aft 
inordinate length, to give even the outlines ; and I presume 
it would not comport with the object of your present under- 
taking, to go thus extensively into matters no better aulhenti- 
catsd than these wild legends usually are. 
Very Respectfully, 

V. HASCALL. 



Kalamazoo in 1833. 



MRS. HENRIETTA S. T. TAYLOR, 

Secretary Ladies* Library Association, Kal. Michigan, 

Time in its passage through twenty-two years, hatb 
wrought a change in the County of Kalamazoo, which to 
those of us, who were among the "early settlers," seems 
marvellous and dreamlike. I remember well, a pleasant ride 
I had, in the early part of November, 1833, from my humble 
cabin, on " Prairie Ronde," passing over tie "Indian trail" 
which touched the margin of " Dry Prairie," thence across a 
somewhat broken country, until it finally passed down on the 
plain, near the dwelling house, on what now constitutes the 
" Axtell Farm;" my errand was to purchase, at what was 
then considered the great mart of trade for this County, a 
supply of Salt. The Trading House below the present vil- 
lage of Kalamazoo and near where now stands the Furnace, 
furnished the principal supply of Salt and Iron, (and that in 
very limited quantities) and other necessaries to the Pioneer. 
At the Trading House, I found a large number of Indians, 
bartering for their supplies of Blue Calico and Whiskey. My 
mission was speedily and satisfactorily accomplished, by an 
exchange of twelve dollars and fifty cents in silver coin, for 
one barrel of salt, the salt to be brought home in the course 
of a few days, by the ox team of a neighbor, who was jointly 
interested with me in the purchase. On my return, I had for 
companions, " Sagawaw '' the village Chief of some two 
score of Indian Lodges, located on what is termed the " North 
West Neck " of Prairie Ronde, and his interpreter, " Duro- 
cher," a mongrel, his mother a Squaw, his father a Canadian 
Frenchman. The Chief was a noble specimen of his race, 
reserved, and with little disposition to indulge in idle talk. — 
Durocher, on the contrary, had many of the peculiarities of 
the Frenchman, a constant disposition to exaggerate, violent 
in his gesticulation, with a copious, and sometimes almost a 
furious flow of words. In passing a point of marsh land, 
distan t about one mile from the present Axtell Farm House, 



64 

the Indian pointed to a mound shaped spot of land, entirely 
surrounded by the marsh, and explamed through Durocher, 
that tliere stood, during the last war with England, a «hop, in, 
which iwo men, (one French, the other English,) labored \n 
repasring the guns of the Indians. He stated that the rudo 
shop was erected, and the men paid by the British Govern- 
ment, and that the repairs were made for the Indians, free o( 
any charge ; that the shop was placed on that knoll or mound 
surrounded by a wet marsh, as a protection to some extent, 
against fire. Sagawaw also stated, that many Indians were 
at that spot, for weeks, obtaining repairs and making their 
simple arrangements, in anticipation of a great battle to be 
fought in the month of December, A. D. 1812, in the Easteru 
part of what now constitutes the State of Michigan, and thai 
fheir expectations were sadly realized in the bloody fight at 
Frenchtown, on the River Raisin, on the 22d day of January. 
A. D. 1813, where the very flower of the Kentucky soldiery, 
including the gallant company led on by Captain Hart, were 
butchered almost to a man. A few of the American soldiers 
escaped the indiscriminate slaughter of that dreadful fight, 
for it stands a recorded historical fact, to the eternal disgrace 
of Proctor, the British Commander, that he suffered and 
^ven encouraged the Indians to pursue this murderous thirst 
for blood after the remnant of Americans had surrendered. 
Among the small band that escaped the tomahawk and scalp- 
ing knife, of the Indians, in that perilous fight, and who with 
a few others, was taken captive into Canada, was one of the 
pioneers of our County, and who still lives, a farmer on 
** Gourd Neck Prairie — the Government has recently be- 
stowed on him, for his services, a warrant for Bounty Land, 
und well might John McComsey waive his accustomed mod- 
esty and say with patriotic pride, in enumerating his military 
services, I was in the thickest of the fight at the " Battle of 
th^ River Raising 

The Pottawattarnies — to which tribe Sagawaw was at 
tached, were all, the allies of the British. As the old Chief 
described what he had witnessed at, and around the spot 
where we then stood, with extended arm, he directed our eyes 
to the circular spot where the coal was burnt and prepared 
for the forge of that primative workshop, and there, within 
the square of ground, upon which the shop once stood, could 
still be seen the charred block, on which the anvil bad rested , 



65 

To my enquiry, why were the Pottawattamies always th« 
Allies of the British, and enemies of the Americans, came the 
.•eady answer, " Our Father " over the big water gave to xha 
Indian plenty of powder, lead and blankets, and always a^-- 
companied the present with the solemn declaration that the 
Americans had ever intended to drive the Indian away west 
of the " Father of Waters." 

But not to be tedious in these early reminiscences, I recar 
again to the marked change in the country throughout the 
County of Kalamazoo, within the past score of years ; the 
face of the country is peculiar in its wild state, the cherished 
home of the Indian, and with kis little labor and effort, fur- 
nishing him free'y with the means of substance ; its wide 
spread piairies and beautiful groves, before the disturbing' 
hand of the white man had touched them, more lovely than 
ain English landscape, and in its season embellished with fi 
Verdure and a profusion and variety of flowers, that wouUi 
have pleased the eye and made happy the heart of the poet. 
And now, after the lapse ©f these few years, since this same 
country has been surrendered for what has been termed, the 
iimprovement of civilization, we have presented for our enjoys 
-ment, all the comfort and luxuries of life. Intelligent travel- 
ers, in their western tours, have oft times favorably noted the 
Tillage of Kalamazoo, as having in its location, convenience 
and beauty, in intimate combination. The even plain ami 
surrounding liills, it would almost seem, expressly prepared 
for the ornamental and useful efforts of the builder Its peo- 
ple are mainly from the hills of New England, ajland that sendi^ 
its sons for energetic efforts in civilization and refinement, all 
over the world. Here also, we find spacious streets, and 
dwellings commodious, and exhibiting th3 skill of the arch* 
tect ; the merchant with enlarged capital is before us, with 
his rich display of fabrics, exhibiting American skill, or wo 
Yen in the "old world." Churches presenting large outlay 
of means, have been erected, creditable to the several relig 
sous societies, Who thus give evidence that they acknowledge 
1hc Supremacy of that Being who gives to us life, health, and 
prosperity . 

But I am reminded that 1 occupy this page by virtue o( my 
1 position, as one of the early settlers, and that brevity in the; 
•writer, hath oft times more of interest than his style or subject. 

H, G. W. 
^9* 



l¥a€ousta; A Tradition of the Ottawas. 

W. C. RANSOM. 



Not altogether free of romance are the localities around 
our beautiful Village. Indeed, America's most distinguished 
novelist, the lamented Cooper, placed the scene of •ne of his 
latest tales along the shores of that beautiful stream which 
winding along the base of the ampitheatring hills that sur- 
rounds our Village, shines like a sheen of silver in the far oW 
distance. 

About this beautiful garden spot of our State it was the de- 
light of the red men to gather. Here were their homes ; 
here their council fires ; and here too, reposed in safety their 
old men and women, while their braves, on some distant ex- 
pedition, carried terror to the hearts of their enemies. Upon 
at high bluff just below our village, repose the remains of one 
of the most noted Chieftains of the Ottawa Tribe. An in- 
teresting tradition of his people relates the history of his 
death, as follows : 

Many Moons ago ere the pale face had looked upon the 
blue waters of the Michigan ; while yet the Ottawas, the Hu. 
Tons, the Chippewas and Pottawatamies held undisputed sway 
over that vast tract of country which is washed by th© sur* 
rounding lakes; the Sioux a numerous and warlike tribe, 
whose domains extended from the shores of the Michigan 
Lake to the Mississippi, on the west, sent out a large war 
party, who, passing around the head of the lake, invaded the 
territory occupied by the Ottawas, who were gathered in 
large nutabers at this point, celebrating the annual feast of 
\h^ harvest. 

At peace wiiii their neighbors, and not suspecting danger, 
rtie Sioux party had approached to the top of the hills that 
overlook our valley on the west, without the slightest sub- 



67 

picion on the part of the Ottawas, of the promity of their 
dangerous foes. Here they paused and awaited the darkness 
of the night, ere they should make that attack which would 
send the dusky spirit of many a brave to the happy hunting 
grounds of the spirit land. 

The feast and the dance of the harvest went merrily on 
around the happy fires, the young warrior wooed an! won, 
the brave recited his deeds of daring, and tne sagimunds of 
the nation looked grave and smiled by turns at the festive 
scenes around them. Among the Ottawas was one who 
jomed not in the festivities. — " The Eagles feather " contrasted 
strongly with the dark hair in which it was twincd» and his 
noble bearing proclaimed him, who sat apart from his com- 
rades, to be a personage of no common position, for he was 
the son of Wacousta the Chief of his tribe. Once upon an 
expedition, he had wandered far away from the home of his 
fathers to the wigwams of the Sioux, here he had sought and 
obtained the promise of the hand of a Chieftain's daughter, 
and returned to his home, promising that many moons should 
not pass, ere he would return and claim his beautiful bride. 

Well did the young Ottawa know that his tribe would 
never consent to his taking a wife from a foreign nation, so 
long as many an Ottawa girl aspired to his hand, and hitherto 
he had found no fitting opportunity to make his stern father 
acquainted with his determination. In the meantime the 
Sioux girl tired of the long delay of her absent lover, learn 
ing from her father that they were about to visit his country, 
after much solicitation, was permitted to accompany the party 
in their excursion, and was now in their camp, and from her 
people, learned that a night attack was to be made on the 
Ottawas, with the intention of cutting them off at a blow. 
From the outliers she also learned that Wacousta was among 
them, and Omeena his Son. 

To save his family from the threatened massacre was the 
determination of the Sioux maid, and accordingly, after night- 
fall, she started from the camp and threading her way noise- 
lessly under the dark shadows of the forest, she soon reached 
the camp of the Ottawas. 

Drawing the folds of her blanket closely around her face 
to conceal it from the sight of her enemies, she quickly found 
herself at the door of a Lodge, from the size of which, she 
judged the owner to be of no common rank. Glancing hastily 



68 

snto the faces of the sleeping occupants as the flickering fire 
revealed them to view, she saw that Omeena was not there 
and turned away to continue the search elsewhere. 

Hardly, however, had she changed her course, ere she met 
^he young Ottawa returning to the lodge which she had but 
just visited. Great was the surprise of the young Chieftain 
at meeting his affianced there ; but not less surprised was he 
H.H she revealed to him the proximity of his foes, and warned 
him to apprize his family, that ihey might flee from danger. 
She then retraced her steps, and her absence having been un- 
iiioticed, was soon seated among the people of her nation. 

Hard was the struggle in the mind of Omeena, as he pon- 
tiered over the intelligence which had but just reached him. — 
The struggle was but brief, the glory of the brave, and the 
U>ve of his nation triumphed over every other principle, and 
soon hundreds of grim warriors sallied forth, to form an am- 
buscade for the approaching enemies. Crossing the Kalama- 
y.oo, they secreted themselves in the dark thicket on its west- 
-irn bank, and awaited the Sioux's coming. Just as the 
harvest moon had risen brightly over the Eastern hills the 
ulmost silent tread of the warriors betokened their approach, 
!^nd now the Ottawa war cry went up to the bending sky 
iVum hundreds of braves, and the deadly affiay commenced. 
Warrior with warrior grappled, and together sunk in 
death's embrace. First in the fight moved the stately Wacous- 
la. Eagerly he sought the Sioux leader, and to terminate 
the contest with the result of a single combat. The morning 
oame, and with it the struggle had ceased. The Sioux de- 
teated at every point, had retreated, leaving their Chieftain 
among the dead of the battle field. 

Upon his breast rechned the head of a young Sioux girl 
whose beauty had not protected her from the merciless toma- 
hawk, as she endeavored in the fury of the fray, to shield the 
fallen body of her father. A little distance from the Sioux 
Chieftain, reposed on the dewy grass the body of another 
warrior, the plumes that were turned in his hair, draggled and 
trailing on the earth. The serenity of death had calmed the 
stern features, and this was all that remained here of 
Wacousia. 

Omeena survived the fray, and when evenings shadows^ 
were again resting upon the landscape, they carried out the 
bodies of the noble dead, and buried them side by side. 



«!» 

At iheU- crave, thev planted llsa wild r.«e, and wilK ««c;> 
rem nm" spring, Ihe Otlavva maidons came to »<-« «ni 

o c . flower, ttt:. resting pUce "^ "'^^"""3 '»'""\|;: ;,^^ 
the braves to look upon the spot wh,er« imposed ,»« noU... 
Wacousia and his deadly foe. 



The Aboris^ines. 



•^** 



BY GEORGE TORREY. 



They*ve pass'd away ; that ancient race, 

A thousand years ago ; 
Swept from the earth, and scarce a trac©, 

Tells where their dust lies low. 

These Prairies, with fair flowrets spread, 

These garden beds so green ; 
These mounds of earth, that hold their d©ad. 

Tell that such men have been. 

Rude, unrefined, perchance their life. 

Was spent in useful toil, 
ITnskill'd in arms — averse to strife, 

They till'd the fruitful soil. 

They rear'd their Temples to the Sun, 
Their shrines, to gods unknown, 

And ceremonial rites were done. 
On the " Sacrificial Stone." 

Krewhile another race, more rude, 

Wild warrior Hunters came, 
From their far western solitudes. 

Pursuing here their game. 

They found this peaceful, happy race, 

Spread o'er this wide domain ; 
Tbay laid their fields and Temples waate , . 

And swept them from the plain. 

Far South, beyond the mighty stream 

That bore them on its tide. 
They've passed — their history is a dreftoa. 

Their name with them has died. 

No »• storied urn " no sculp tur'd stono, 
No written scroll of fame, 



71 

To tell their deeds, these moanda &laik» 
Stand here, without a name. 

They're gone, their untold legions tweH, 

The army of the dead ; 
Unwept, unsung, their ashes dwell, 

Unhonored, where we tread. 

Perchance these Prairies, where no siga 

Of tree or shrnb is seen, 
Were covered with th' Oak and Pine, 

The forest's king and queen. 

Tho Saxon race that came from far. 

Beyond the dark blue wave. 
Hither led on by Freedom's star. 

That guides the Free and Brave. 

Have reared a nation, who at length.. 

Has spread its flowing tide, 
O'er the wide west, whose wealth and 9l<^ei>giH 

Fills its great heart with pride. 

And what shall be our monument. 

When we have passed away : 
What ** Illiad " shall tho muse invent, 

Or history portray ? 

Would that some bard like him cf old, 

Who sung of '♦ arts and arms," 
Our Nation's glory would unfold. 

With the poet's fairy charms. 

Muse of Columbia's favored lai^d. 

Some native bard inspire, 
To wake wiih glowing heart and hand, 

Thy long neglected Lyre. 

Indian TVames. 

A.lon^ Algoma's rocky shore. 

Roll the wild Northern waves; 
Chanting sad dirges as tliey ronr, 

Around the red men's gravea. 
And Michigan's dark bosom. hiM^* 

To Huron's wilder shore, 
The mingled tide of man^ a «tr«^aa, 

Named by thwso meix of yore< 



72 

l^Iuskegttn, rtiiling down, 'mid |T*re» 

Of dark and stately pines; 
'Where the dun deer, undaunted rotes. 

Within these dark confines. 
And VVashteteong, whose val lies broad, 

A golden harvest yields; 
The home where once th« red roan trod. 

Lord oi" those fertile fields. 

And thy sweet sylvan, silvery tide, 

Ke-Kalamazoo, hast seen 
Their clustered cabins on thy side. 

Their sports upon th© green. 
Thou hastbcrne along their lijrht cawo©. 

And heard their war-whoop ring; 
Did'st thou hear who named thee, Kalamixo').' 

Was it chieftain, sage, or king? 

It matters not Aw name or raak. 

Or whence thy baptism came, 
While thy swift waters lave their bank. 

Shall live thine Indian name! 
yes: Michigan hath many a name, 

Graven on her virgin breast, 
To consecrate for aye, their fame, 

Whose sleeping dust there resLs, 

Her Lakes, her Streams, her Forast shades. 

Her Prairies, Plains, and Mounds, 
B«ar records of the race who rnade, 

The wide West, hallowed ground. 
Then cherish still, these Indian names, 

Fulfill the sacred trust, 
Bequeathed by thoje whose hiBrorj' c'fc'ms 

A plaoe, where sleeps their dust. 

By G FORGE TOHRK'i 



«^i07 89 














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PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES. L 
1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 







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CKMAN 

)ERY INC. 

^ NOV 89 

W N. MANCHESTER, 
^ INDJANA 46962 



